tihvwy  of  t:Ke  t:Keolo0ical  ^tmimty 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
REVEREND  JESSE  HALSEY,  D.D. 

BV  4501  .H58  1864 
Hopkins,  Samuel,  1721-1803. 
Lessons  at  the  cross,  or. 
Spiritual  truths  familiarl 


LESSONS  AT  THE   CROSS. 


ji 


LESSONS   AT.  Tte^BOSSjj::^ 


OR 


SPIRITUAL  TRUTHS 


FAMILIARLY  EXHIBITED  IN  THEIR  RELATIONS  TO  CHRIST. 


BY 

SAMUEL  HOPKINS. 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION. 


REV.   GEORGE  W.   BLAGDEN,   D.  D. 


EIGHTH    EDITION. 


BOSTON: 


aOULD     AND     LINOOT.  N 

69    WASHINGTON    STREET. 

NEW    YORK:    SHELDON   AND    COMPANY. 

CINCINNATI:    GEORGE   S.  BLANCHARD. 

1864. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
S.  K.  Whipple  &  Co., 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetta 


ADVEETISEMENT. 


The  following  papers  were  written  at  dif- 
ferent times,  and  without  any  reference  to 
each  other.  I  gather  them  from  a  multitude 
of  others  almost  at  random,  and  in  their 
original  form ;  making  a  little  volume  which, 
as  such^  has  no  pretensions  to  unity.  Conse- 
quently, similar  aspects  of  some  particular 
truth  occasionally  recur  in  illustration  of  dif- 
ferent, but  analogous,  subjects ;  which  in  a 
consecutive  work  would  be  a  faulty  repe- 
tition 

If,  however,  I  secure  the  Christian  sym- 
pathy of  the  reader,  and  conduce  to  his  spir- 
itual profit,  a  few  imperfections  of  method 
or  of  style  will  not  interfere  with  my  chief 
object  in  the  issue  of  these  pages. 

S.  H. 
Jamiaryy  1852. 


CONTENTS, 


PAGB 

Introdxjction ix 


I.    Spiritual  Life,  —  its  Natl're  axd  Method  .-     9 
n.    Spiritual  Li«:e,  —  its  Gro-vVth  ...        27 

III.  Daily  Faith  in  Christ 42 

IV.  The  Conditions  op  Salvation  ...        63 
v.    Peace  op  Mind 77 

VI.    Divine  Grace  commensurate  with  Man's 

Necessity 85 

VII.    Religious  Despondency      ....        99 
VIII.     The   Excellence   of   the    Knowledge  of 

Christ 116 

IX.    The  Wealth  op  the  Believer   .        .        .154 
X.    The  Recognition  op  Christ's  Grace,  —  a 

Duty 185 

XI.    The  Believer's  Debt  to  Christ     .        .         222 
XII.    Service  the  Requirement  op  Christ.       .    238 
XIII.    The  Results   op  the  Christian's  Afflic- 
tions        253 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  manuscript  copy  of  this  volume  has 
been  submitted  to  my  perusal ;  and  I  have 
been  animated  and  strengthened  in  my  own 
religious  principles  by  reading  it.  It  is,  per- 
haps, a  fair  inference,  that  others  who  peruse 
it  will  be  equally  benefited.  It  is  luminous 
with  Christ ;  and  therefore  it  may  be  con- 
scientiously and  unreservedly  recommended. 
In  some  cases  there  may  be  found  expres- 
sions which  the  reader  would  not  desire  to 
adopt  as  his  own.  Possibly,  too,  in  some  in- 
stances, an  eye  that  looks  for  any  thing  like 
theological  flaws  may  be  able  to  discover 
something  to  expose.  But  it  will  find  Christ ; 
and  that  object  may  well  draw  away  its  vis- 
ion from  any  real  or  imaginary  defects.     Why 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

should  we  not  read,  and  be  delighted,  to  find 
Him ;  and  be  little  concerned  whether  it  shall 
please  Him  to  come  to  us  in  the  bright  and 
glorious  raiment  of  the  Mount  of  Transfig- 
uration, or  in  the  garments  in  which  He 
walked  over  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Judea? 

But  this  book  needs  no  apology.  It  is  well 
and  naturally  written.  No  Christian  can  read 
it  without  being  helped  by  it  in  walking  the 
strait  and  narrow  path.  With  its  compre- 
hensive view  of  the  extent  of  the  grace^  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  I  have  been  particu- 
larly pleased  ;  while  its  whole  tenor  is  such 
as  to  make  it  wear  the  appearance  of  one 
who  comes  to  the  Christian  pilgrim  as  he  is 
wearily  treading  through  the  "wilderness  of 
this  world,"  —  like  Greatheart,  in  the  beautiful 
allegory  of  Bunyan,  —  to  inspire  him  with  re- 
newed courage,  and  cheer  him  on  in  his  way. 
We  want  words  of  cheer,  in  thjs  our  devious 
journey.  Amid  the  ponderous  theological 
works  that  some  of  us  may  read,  and  the 
philosophical  views  of  religious  truth  in  which 
we  may  love  to  indulge,  we  are  in  some  dan- 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

ger  of  becoming  too  theoretic  and  cold.  But 
a  practical  work  like  this  quickens  our  some- 
what languid  feelings,  and  strengthens  us  in 
doing  the  will  of  God. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  prominence  it  gives, 
in  one  or  more  of  its  chapters,  to  the  com- 
prehensiveness of  the  grace  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus.  It  extends  the  influence  of  this  grace 
to  the  blessings  we  receive  from  the  works 
and  providence  of  God,  as  well  as  to  favors 
essentially  spirituaL 

Are  we  not  in  some  danger  of  failing  to 
notice  this,  in  the  distinction  we  very  properly 
make  between  providence  and  grace?  And 
on  account  of  this  failure  do  we  not  lose 
something  of  that  glow  of  gratitude  and  felt 
obligation  for  the  multitudinous  blessings  we 
receive  from  God,  that  we  should  otherwise 
experience  ?  Do  we  not  ask  with  less  fervor, 
"  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all 
his  benefits  ?  " 

The  close  connection  there  is  between  God's 
dispensations  of  providence  and  grace, —  in- 
cluding, as  I  would  wish  to  do,  for  my  pres- 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

ent  purpose,  in  our  idea  of  his  ways  of  prov- 
idence, his  works  also  in  nature,  —  is  so  inti- 
mate, that  we  may  make  continual  use  of  one 
of  these  departments  of  his  blessed  govern- 
ment in  illustrating  the  other.  Particularly 
may  we  thus  use  His  works  of  nature  and 
ways  in  providence,  to  illustrate  the  revealed 
truths  of  His  grace. 

We  know  that  this  is  continually  done,  to 
some  extent,  perhaps,  by  all  who  "  believe  th'at 
God  is,  and  that  he  is  the  rewarder  of  them 
that  diligently  seek  him."  But  may  it  not 
be  done  more  intelligently,  as  well  as  con- 
stantly, than  it  has  been  done,  by  many  of 
us  ?  And  with  the  Bible  as  our  guide,  may 
we  not  use  them  in  a  more  positive  form,  for 
the  enforcement  of  religious  truth,  than  many 
are  accustomed  to  do  ? 

Butler  has  used  the  analogies  between 
them,  with  great  power  and  success,  to  answer 
objections  to  the  general  truths  of  revealed 
religion.  And  the  Eev.  Mr.  Barnes,  of  Phil- 
adelphia, has  shown  with  much  clearness  and 
force,  in  an  interesting  and   able  review  of 


INTRODUCTION.  XIU 

Butler's  immortal  work,  that  the  principle  of 
his  reasoning  may  be  happily  employed  in 
replying  to  the  objections  often  urged  against 
each  one  of  the  principal  doctrines  of  Evan- 
gelical religion. 

But  may  we  not  make  more  use  than  we 
have  done  of  these  analogies,  in  positively  il- 
lustrating these  doctrines,  as  well  as  in  an- 
swering objections  against  them?  and  this  too 
without  running  into  any  of  the  extravagan- 
ces of  what  has  been  called  "spiritualizing" 
every  object  and  event,  without  any  regard  to 
Scriptural  authority  for  doing  so  ? 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  introduce  here  any 
examples  of  the  forms  in  which  I  think  this 
might  be  done;  inasmuch  as  this  notice  is 
only  introductory  to  what  is  before  the  reader, 
in  a  volume  written  by  another ;  and  in  per- 
forming such  a  service  it  would  be  inappro- 
priate to  present  any  particular  sentiments  or 
theories  of  my  own.  Let  me  only,  then,  call 
the  attention  of  some  of  my  fellow-travellers 
through  time  to  eternity  to  this  little  work ; 
and  venture  to  introduce  it  to  them,  as  to  a 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

fellow-passenger,  who,  judging  from  my  own 
experience,  will  both  help  and  encourage  them 
on  their  way.  Meanwhile,  as  allusion  has 
been  already  made  to  the  beautiful  allegory 
of  John  Bunyan,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  take 
leave  of  the  reader,  in  the  last  line  of  his  own 
"  Apology  for  his  Book  "  :  — 

"  0,  then  come  liither ! 
And  lay  "  this  "  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together." 

G.  W.  B 


LESSONS   AT    THE    CEOSS. 


I. 


SPIRITUAL  LIFE,  — ITS  NATURE  AND  METHOD 

The  vague  ideas  which,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
prevail  respecting  spiritual  or  eternal  life  are 
dangerous.  They  are  hurtful.  Oftentimes 
they  are  fatal. 

Many  think  thennselves  in  the  high-road  to 
heaven  who  would  at  once  see  that  they  are 
*in  the  road  to  death  could  you  divest  them  of 
their  false  ideas  of  what  heaven  is,  and  of 
what  spiritual  life  is.  Many  a  darling  hope  of 
heaven  would  explode,  like  a  child's  bubble,  if 
the  false  disciple  of  Christ  should  only  see 
what  spiritual  life  is.  Many  a  proud  world- 
ling, now  wrapped  in  false  security,  would 
tremble  like  an  aspen-leaf  in  the  tempest, 
should  he  only  see  what  spiritual  life  is. 
Many  a  man  would  find  his  refuges  of  lies 


10  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 


crumbling  over  his  head,  if  he  only  saw  the 
palpable,  eternal  contrariety  between  spiritual 
life  and  his  own  every-day  demeanor.  And 
many  a  Christian,  now  half  fed,  faint,  and 
sickly,  would  put  on  gladness  and  beauty 
like  a  garment,  had  he  a  distinct,  living,  abid- 
ing perception  of  the  mode  and  nature  of  spir- 
itual life. 

He  who  thinks  that  it  is  merely  a  state  of 
enjoyment  after  death,  is  wrong.  He  who 
fancies  it  to  be  a  state  of  enjoyment  to  which 
nothing  but  the  power,  the  love,  and  the  grace 
of  God  are  necessary,  is  wrong,  —  absurdly 
wrong.  He  who  views  it  as  a  state  of  enjoy- 
ment which  may  be  secured  merely  by  the 
deeds  of  outward  obedience,  in  conjunction 
with  God's  power  and  love,  is  also  absurdly 
wrong.  He  who  thinks  that  it  is  a  state  of 
enjoyment  for  the  inheritance  of  which  faith 
and  repentance  are  needless,  or  necessary 
only  as  the  terms  of  an  arbitrary  stipulation, 
is  wrong.  And  such  wrong  views  lead  to 
corresponding  errors  in  one's  every-day  course ; 
to  self-delusion  ;  to  false  consolation  ;  to  false 
confidence ;  to  false  hope ;  to  eternal  death. 

By  Life,  we  understand  something  more 
than  the  perfect   organization  or  structure  of 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  11 

that  which  has  existence.  We  meet  with  a 
plant  perfect  in  its  parts,  but  without  vital  ac- 
tion. It  has  no  life.  We  meet  with  another 
which  has  vital  action  ;  but  the  action  is  im- 
paired, it  is  weakened,  it  is  sluggish.  There 
is  perfect  organization,  it  may  be  ;  bat  there  is 
not  life^  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  word.  So 
the  Scripture  speaks  in  reference  to  the  soul ; 
representing  men  whose  souls  were  in  exist- 
ence^ and  in  action^  as  spiritually  dead. 

By  life^  we  understand,  and  so  do  the 
Scriptures,  the  thrift,  the  healthy^  happy^  ac- 
tion, of  any  thing  which  has  existence.  Thus 
vegetable  life  is  the  thrift,  the  well-being,  the 
good  or  happy  state,  of  the  plant.  Animal 
life  is  the  thriving,  healthy,  happy  state  of  the 
body.  When  it  is  full  of  thrift;  when  its 
functions  are  performed  without  impediment ; 
when  its  food  nourishes ;  when  its  senses  are 
quick  and  keen  and  true ;  when,  thus,  every 
beauteous  and  good  thing  around  it  is  tribu- 
tary to  its  enjoyment ;  and  when  it  seems  to 
inhale  enjoyment  to  the  full  extent  of  its  pow- 
ers, —  we  say  it  is  full  of  life.  Death  is  the 
consummation  of  bodily  woe  ;  the  lowest, 
most  fearful  condition  to  which  the  body  can 
be  reduced.  So  the  fulness  of  life  —  life  be- 
ing the  opposite  of  death  —  is  the  body  full 

2 


12  SPIRITUAL    LIFE,  ITS    NATURE. 

of  enjoyment ;  the  best  and  highest  condition 
to  which  the  body  can  be  raised. 

And  thus,  too,  by  spiritual  life  we  mean, 
and  the  Bible  means,  something  over  and 
above  spiritual  existence;  something  over  and 
above  the  soul's  perfect  construction.  By  spir- 
itual death,  the  Bible  does  not  mean,  that  the 
soul  ceases  to  be ;  nor  that  it  has  ceased  to 
act ;  nor  that  it  is  bereft  of  any  of  its  faculties 
of  action.  And  so  by  the  soul's  life  the  Bibfe 
does  not  mean  merely  that  the  soul  is  exist- 
ing;  or  that  it  is  acting;  or  that  it  is  en- 
dowed with  ability  for  all  action ;  for  all  this 
is  comprised  in  that  condition  which  the  Bi- 
ble calls  the  soul's  death.  Something  more 
than  this,  then,  is  distinctive  of  the  soul's  life. 
In  one  word  it  is  —  happiness.  When  the  ac- 
tion of  the  soul  is  a  happy  action ;  when  its 
thoughts  are  happy  thoughts;  when  the  iiji- 
pressions  which  it  receives  from  external  ob- 
jects are  gladsome  impressions;  when  its  af- 
fections are  happy  affections,  —  then  the  soul 
has  life.  And  when  every  successive  thought, 
and  action,  and  impression,  and  affection,  is 
happy ;  when  every  truth  and  event  and  ob- 
ject upon  which  it  looks  seems  clad  in  beauty; 
when  nothing  can  come  in  to  darken,  or  af- 
fright, or  ruffle  it, — that  is  fulness^  perfection, 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  13 

of  life,  because  it  is  fulness,  perfection,  of  en- 
joyment. 

But  more.  This  life  of  the  soul,  when  it 
exists  in  renewed  man,  is  enduring.  Adam 
had  originally  spiritual  life  in  its  highest  de- 
gree. So  had  the  angels  who  left  their  first 
estate.  They  sinned,  and  thereby  their  spirit- 
ual life  became  extinct;  spiritual  death  suc- 
ceeded. But  wherever  this  life  is  found 
among  men  since  the  Fall,  it  never  expires. 
That  it  can  expire,  — that  true  happiness  may 
cease,  and  cease  for  ever,  though  the  soul's  ex- 
istence never  should,  —  is  true.  The  soul's 
existence  can  —  at  least  for  aught  we  know 
—  come  to  an  end ;  but  —  it  never  ivill.  And 
so  the  soul's  life,  or  happiness,  can  come  to  an 
end  ;  but  —  it  never  ivill.  We  know  that  we 
shall  exist  for  ever,  because  God  declares  it. 
And  we  know  that,  if  we  once  have  spiritual 
life,  it  will  endure  for  ever,  because  God  de- 
clares that.  He  says,  that  it  is  life  eternal.  He 
declares  th^t  he  will  maintain  it,  so  that,  al- 
though it  can,  it  never  ivill  fail. 

But  if  spiritual  life  is  the  happiness  of  the 
soul,  then  it  is  not  necessarily  something 
which  pertains  only  to  a  future  state  of  being. 
Its  perfect  happiness  — fulness  of  life  —  may 
not  be  found  here  ;   but  its  happiness  or  life  in 


14  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  * 

some  measure  may  be,  and  is.  It  is  as  capa 
ble  of  happiness  to-day  as  it  will  be  to-mor- 
row, or  after  the  death  of  the  body.  It  has 
the  same  capacities  for  enjoyment,  the  same 
faculties  of  perception  and  of  joyous  action, 
now,  that  it  ever  will  have  or  ever  can  have. 
It  is  perfect  in  its  construction,  perfect  in  its 
endowments ;  and  thus  it  can  be  no  more  ca- 
pable of  life  in  another  condition,  than  in  its 
present ;  no  more,  in  eternity  than  at  this  mo- 
ment. Its  life  may  beg-in  here,  and  does,  and 
without  any  alteration  of  the  soul's  construc- 
tion ;  though  that  life  is  matured  and  per- 
fected only  in  heaven.  And  so  says  the  Bi- 
ble. "God  hath  given  us" — hath  already 
given  us  —  "  eternal  life."  "  He  that  hath 
the  Son  hath  life.'*"  "  He  that  believeth  on 
him  that  sent  me,"  says  our  Saviour,  "  hath 

everlasting  life, is  passed  from  death 

unto  life." 

But  we  have  said  very  little  about  spiritual 
life,  or  that  life  of  the  soul  which  is  eternal, 
when  we  have  said,  that  it  is  the  soul's  happi- 
ness. The  question  comes  up.  What  is  the 
soul's  happiness  ? 

The  immortal  spirit  which  has  enslaved  it- 
self to  the  body  ;  which  has  sold  itself  to  serve 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  15 

the  body's  appetites  and  pleasures  ;  which,  as 
the  Bible  expresses  it,  "walks  after  the  flesh," 
—  has  its  petty  pleasures,  its  mongrel  delights; 
but  is  it  happy  ?  The  man  who  tasks  body 
and  mind,  who  devotes  his  highest,  his  immor- 
tal energies  to  the  toils,  the  anxieties,  the  per- 
plexities of  getting  wealth,  has  his  moments 
of  pleasure.  But  has  he  happiness  ?  The  de- 
luded man  who  is  spurred  along  through  the 
highways  and  by-ways  of  gayety  and  frivolity, 
of  fashion  and  dissipation,  has  his  hours  of 
laughter  and  wild  intoxication.  But  has  he 
happiness  ?  He  who  drinks  at  better  foun- 
tains ;  who  finds  his  highest  wish  answered  in 
the  quietness  and  brightness  of  his  own  fire- 
side, in  the  unchecked  outgoings  of  his  heart 
there,  has  his  pleasures.  But  is  he  a  happy 
man  ?  Is  he  satisfied  ?  In  each  of  these 
cases,  —  is  it  well  with  the  soul  ?  Is  it  fed  ? 
Is  it  thriving  ?  Is  it  at  peace  ?  Has  it  life  ? 
Has  it  no  sensations  of  famine,  —  of  faint- 
ness,  —  of  dissatisfaction,  —  of  disturbance,  — 
to  which  it  finds  no  antidote  ? 

No ;  these  sparkling  fountains  of  pleasure 
do  not  give  life.  The  soul  may  glean  up 
many  good  things  along  its  pilgrimage.  It 
may  taste  many  transient  sweets.  And  yet  it 
may  have  no  happiness,  no  life,  no  earnest  of 
immortal  bliss. 


16  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 

Spiritual  life  is  —  the  soul  acting  according 
to  its  law. 

The  whole  universe  is  subject  to  laws.  The 
system  of  worlds  is  subject  to  laws.  If  these 
laws  are  observed,  the  beauty,  the  order,  the 
harmony,  the  well-being,  of  the  whole  are  pre- 
served. If  these  laws  are  disturbed,  the  bal- 
ance of  the  system  is  gone,  and  its  utter  wreck 
ensues.  Every  tree  and  plant  is  subject  to 
laws.  If  they  are  fulfilled,  vegetable  thrift  and 
life  are  the  result.  If  those  laws  are  not  ful- 
filled, sickness  and  death  follow.  Animal  ex- 
istence is  subject  to  laws.  Every  pain,  every 
disease,  every  disturbance,  is  because  those 
laws,  in  some  respect,  are  disregarded.  The 
body  is  so  made  that  it  cannot  maintain  ease 
and  enjoyment,  if  its  several  functions  are  in- 
terrupted. Every  infringement  of  its  Hws 
brings  evil.  It  was  made  to  find  happiness 
only  in  their  observance  ;  and  without  that  ob 
servance,  it  cannot  find  happiness. 

The  soul  also  is  subject  to  law.  It  is  dc 
signed  to  act  according  to  the  law.  It  is  iro 
made^  that,  if  its  operations  accord  with  its  law, 
it  is  happy.  To  observe  its  law  is  its  only 
possible  method  of  happiness.  Every  woe 
springs  up  out  of  its  deviation  from  law ;  just 
as  the  plant  springes  up  from  the  seed ;  just  as 


&PIRITUAL    LIFE, ITPS    NATURE.  17 

the  fruit  springs  forth  from  the  branch.  Every 
deviation  from  its  law  brings  woe,  just  as  sure- 
ly, just  as  necessarily,  as  a  deviation  from  the 
body's  law  brings  the  body's  woe.  This  is 
because  the  soul  is  so  made,  or  constituted. 
Lawlessness  is  its  death  ;  obedience,  its  life, 
its  happiness,  —  necessarily.  It  is  going  con- 
trary to  nature;  it  is  doing  violence  to  itself; 
it  is  disarranging,  upturning,  confounding,  its 
own  elements,  —  when  it  is  acting  contrary  to 
its  law.  We  might  as  well  expect  the  body 
to  live  beneath  the  waves  of  the  sea ;  the  flesh 
to  glow  with  pleasure  in  a  furnace  ;  the  heart 
to  pulsate  full  and  gladly  under  the  knife,  — 
as  to  expect  the  soul  to  be  happy  w^hile  diso- 
beying its  law.  Let  its  thoughts  go  forth  as 
that  law  prescribes ;  let  its  will  acquiesce  in 
that  law ;  let  it  act  as  it  was  made  to  act,  — 
then,  and  only  then,  is  it  happy.  Its  happi- 
ness is  just  as  dependent  upon  its  right  action, 
as  upon  its  existence.  Upon  its  acting  as  it 
was  made  to  act ;  upon  its  loving  what  it  was 
made  to  love ;  upon  its  serving  what  it  was 
made  to  serve ;  upon  its  confiding  in  that  in 
which  it  was  made  to  confide,  —  the  soul's 
happiness  is  as  dependent  upon  these,  as  upon 
the  will,  the  power,  the  love,  or  the  grace  of 
its  Creator.     If  you  are  going  wrong ;  if  you 


18  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 

are  loving,  confiding,  hoping,  willing,  in  defi. 
ance  of  your  law,  you  must  change  your  very 
spiritual  constitution,  and  thus  adapt  it  to 
some  other  law  (which  is  absurd) ;  or  you  must 
change  the  method  of  your  spiritual  conduct ; 
or  you  must  for  ever  die,  —  you  must  be  for 
ever  a  stranger  to  spiritual  happiness.  When 
its  affections  move  in  accordance  with  its  law, 
the  soul  moves  in  beauty ;  it  moves  in  har- 
mony ;  it  moves  in  peace  ;  and  thus  to  move 
is  life.  When  they  do  not,  then  it  "  is  like  the 
troubled  sea  when  it  cannot  rest,  whose  wa- 
ters cast  up  mire  and  dirt."  It  is  in  tumult. 
It  is  in  tempest.     And  this  is  —  death. 

But  what  IS  the  soul's  law  ?  How  was  it 
made  to  act  ? 

To  devote  its  powers  and  affections  to  God. 
To  exist  in  the  steady  and  affectionate  percep- 
tion of  God.  This  is  its  law.  This  is  the 
mode  in  which  it  was  made  and  fitted  to  em- 
ploy its  powers.  This  is  its  life.  This  is  its 
happiness.  It  must  have  God,  or  it  dies.  It 
must  perceive  God  as  he  is,  and  put  forth  its 
chief  affection  toward  him,  or  it  is  a  fountain 
of  sorrow  to  itself,  —  a  sea  of  tossing  and  tem- 
pest, —  a  chaos  of  terrific  elements,  —  a  sap- 
less branch  broken  from  the  vine  of  its  nativ- 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE,  ITS  NATURE.  19 

ity,  —  a  wandering  star  darting  from  its  orbit 
and  speeding  on  to  the  blackness  of  dark- 
ness. 

God  is  the  soul's  life  ;  God  loved,  God 
adored,  God  as  the  focal  point  of  all  its  out- 
goings, God  as  the  centre,  the  end,  of  all  its 
affections.  For  God,  the  soul  was  made.  For 
the  enjoyment  of  God,  all  its  powers  were 
framed  and  fitted.  With  its  eye  open  to  the 
affectionate  perception  of  God  ;  with  all  its 
affections  harmonized,  balanced,  sanctified,  by 
God's  will,  —  it  is  full  of  life.  It  is  full  of 
happiness  because  it  responds  and  moves,  looks 
and  loves,  according  to  its  law.  It  is  full  of 
happiness  because  it  is  full  of  God. 

But  God  is  known  only  through  the  Son. 
"  No  man  knoweth  the  Father  but  the  Son, 
and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal 
him."  Christ  is  the  manifestation  of  God. 
"  The  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  is  given 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  There  —  is  "  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory."  There  —  is 
"  the  express  image  of  his  person."  There 
—  is  the  true  God.  There  —  is  eternal  life. 
"  Christ  is  the  bread  of  life."  What  food  is  to 
the  body,  such  is  Christ  to  the  soul.  "  He 
that  hath  the  Son  hath  life."  In  the  outgo- 
ings ^f  our  souls  to  him,  —  in  our  affectionate 


20  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 

perception  of  lii^r;  excellence,  —  in  our  eager 
searchings  into  his  glory,  —  ^ve  find  life*  We 
have  been  constructed  for  this  ;  in  every  part 
and  nieniber.  Onr  spiritual  vision  is  adapted 
to  that  beauty.  Our  spiritual  appetite  Is  or- 
dained and  proportioned  to  tliat  bread.  Our 
atVections  are  dependent  for  satisfaction  upon 
that  fulness.  Turn  away  from  Christ  as  the 
supreme  object  of  our  love,  and  we  perish. 
"  He  that  hath  not  the  Son  hath  not  life." 
Turn  toward  him  as  the  central  point  of  our 
aflVctions,  and  we  live. 

Would  you  see  what  is  spiritual  life  in 
heaven  ?  Would  you  know  what  is  hap|)i- 
ness  there  ?  Would  you  learn  what  viakes 
heaven  ?  There —  Christ  is  the  manifestation 
of  God.  There  —  lie  is  the  brightness  of  the 
Father's  glory.  There  —  he  is  the  bread  of 
life.  Saint  and  angel  are  looking  upon  "  the 
throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb."  Their  love 
goes  out  to  Christ.  Their  confidence  is  in 
Christ.  Their  song  is  of  Christ.  Their  life, 
their  bliss,  their  heaven,  is  —  Christ ;  Christ,  in 
the  fulness  of  his  glory  ;  Christ,  all  glorious 
with  redeeming  love  ;  Christ,  all  grace  ;  Christ, 
all  gracious  to  their  praise  and  love.  The  soul 
there  has  —  life.  The  soul  there  has —  Christ 
The  soul  there  has  its  life  hi  Christ ;  attuning 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE. ITS    NATURE.  2m 

its  afTections  to  his  will;  bathing  itself  in  the 
fulness  of  hid  glory ;  and  drinking  of  the  waters 
which  flow  from  beneath  his  throne. 

So  the  soul  here  that  lives,  lives  upon  Christ 
Its  happiness  comes  from  him.  It  is  made 
glad  in  proportion  to,  and  by,  its  perception  of 
him.  Its  chief  joy  is  the  ingathering  of  his 
excellent  glory.  Its  subordinate  joys  are  the 
quiet,  peaceful  movements  of  its  subordinate 
affections  according  to  the  will  and  pattern  of 
Christ.  Its  life  is  sustained  in  the  closet  by 
its  "  fellowship  wjth  the  Father,  and  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ."  The  spring-tide  of  its  life  is 
when  it  seats  itself  beneath  the  cross,  and 
looks  at  the  amazing  glory  of  the  Godhead  in 
the  sufferings  of  Redeeming  Love.  Its  richest, 
purest  joys  are  when  it  is  so  filled  with  its 
views  of  Christ,  that  it  longs  for  an  angel's 
harp  and  a  seraph's  tongue  to  celebrate  his 
praise.  This  —  is  Life.  And  this  is  life  which 
outward  troubles  cannot  touch.  This  is  a  tide 
of  bliss  which  worldly  adversity  and  poverty 
and  bereavement  only  swell  to  a  higher  mark  ; 
because  they  impel  the  sufferer,  with  the  more 
eagerness  and  thankfulness  and  closeness,  to 
Christ ;  because  they  impel  him  to  fresh  and 
larger  draughts  from  the  fountain  of  Christ's 
sympathy,  fellowship,  and  love. 


22  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 

Happiness  is  the  right  action  of  the  soul  to- 
ward Christ.  Where  this  right  action  is,  there 
are  ten  thousand  thousand  streams  of  happiness 
flowing  in  upon  it.  Wherever,  and  in  whatever^ 
it  discerns  any  trace  or  interpretation  of  Christ, 
it  gains  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  Every  memento 
of  him,  —  every  proof  of  his  power,  his  pres- 
ence, or  his  love,  —  whether  in  the  Word,  in 
the  doctrine  of  Atonement,  in  the  election  of 
grace,  in  the  typical  ordinances  of  the  Gospel, 
in  the  events  of  providence,  or  in  the  beauty 
and  bounty  of  nature,  —  is  a  tributary  stream 
of  blessing.  It  is  a  drop  of  "  honey  out  of  the 
Rock."  It  is  a  fresh  draught  to  a  thirsty  soul 
from  "  the  spiritual  rock  that  foUoweth  him, 
and  that  rock  is  Christ."  It  is  a  taste  of 
"  angels'  food."  It  is  a  gleaning  of  the  manna 
of  heaven.  "  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  life, 
and  he  that  hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  not 
life."  "  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of 
man,  and  drink  his  blood,  ye  have  no  life  in 
you.  Whoso  eateth  his  flesh  and  drinketh  his 
blood  hath  eternal  life.  For  his  flesh  is  meat 
indeed,  and  his  blood  is  drink  indeed." 

This  is  the  method  of  spiritual  life  ;  this  and 
this  only.  Thus  spiritual  life  is  not  mere  en- 
joyment. It  is  the  soul  enjoying  Christ  in  the 
exercise  of  its  affections  toward  him.     It  is  the 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  23 

soul  acting  as  it  was  made  to  act ;  the  soul 
letting  out  its  affections  toward  Christ  rightlij ; 
putting  the  seal  of  Christ's  proprietorship  upon 
its  every  member,  upon  every  affection,  upon 
every  power.  Perfect  life,  perfect  bliss,  is  the 
movement  of  all  its  powers,  in  unison  with 
its  law,  around  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,"  perfectly,  truly,  unceasingly.  There 
every  thought  and  every  affection  and  every 
passion,  every  object  and  event  and  truth,  is 
tributary  to  its  happiness  ;  because  the  water 
which  Christ  gives  is  within  it  "  a  well  of  water 
springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 

This  consecration  of  the  soul's  powers,  this 
employment  of  them,  is  the  law  of  our  con- 
duct, the  method  of  spiritual  life.  But  this 
law  is  not  something  which  God  has  devised 
to  show  his  sovereignty  withal.  This  law, 
that  the  happiness  of  the  soul  shall  be  found 
only  in  affectionate  intercourse  with  Christ,  is 
not  something  which  God  has  ordained  merely 
because  he  pleased  to  ordain  it ;  or  because  of 
our  peculiar  condition  as  sinners  ;  or  because 
he  could  and  had  a  right  to  make  such  terms 
of  life  with  us  sinners  as  he  had  a  mind  to 
make.  No  such  thing.  It  is  our  law,  because 
we  are  constituted  as  we  are  ;  because  it  is  the 
only  mode  of  happiness,  the  only  mode  of 


24  SPIRITUAL    LIFE,  —  ITS    NATURE. 


spiritual  life,  possible  for  creatures  with  such 
endowments  as  ours  ;  because  it  must  be  our 
law  while  we  remain  in  respect  to  our  spiritual 
constitution  as  we  were  made.  And  it  must 
for  ever  be  our  law,  because  our  endowments 
and  our  wants  can  never  be  changed.  Circum- 
stances will  change.  Situation  will  change. 
Every  thing  to  which  change  is  possible  may 
change  ;  but  the  soul's  relation  to  Christ, 
never  ;  the  soul's  dependence  upon  Christ, 
never ;  the  soul's  high-born  faculties,  and  its 
tremendous  necessities,  never,  —  never.  This 
law  is  the  soul's  law  everywhere  ;  on  earth,  in 
heaven,  in  hell,  in  time,  in  eternity.  It  is  man's 
law.  It  is  the  saint's  law.  It  is  the  angel's 
law.  It  is  the  law  of  all.  Obeyed,  it  yields 
life.  Disregarded,  it  yields  death,  —  death  to 
the  deathless  soul. 

The  life  of  the  soul  cannot  be  sustained  ex- 
cept by  the  right  exercise  of  its  affections 
heavenward,  Godward,  Christward  ;  therefore 
it  will  not  do  to  suppose  that  nothing  more  is 
necessary  for  us  than  the  forth-putting  energy 
of  Divine  love,  power,  grace.  Something  more 
is  necessary;  as  much  so  as  what  there  is  in 
God.  "  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  life.  He 
that  hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  not  life." 

The  life  of  the  soul  cannot  be  sustained  ex- 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE.  25 

cept  by  the  right  exercise  of  its  affections  to- 
ward Christ ;  therefore  to  say  that  warm  affec- 
tions and  spotless  honesty  toward  our  fellow- 
men  will  insure  our  salvation,  is  absurd.  "  He 
that  hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  not  life." 

The  life  of  the  soul  cannot  be  sustained  ex- 
cept by  the  right  exercise  of  its  affections  to- 
ward Christ ;  therefore  for  the  Christian  to 
think  to  find  enjoyment,  or  to  be  clad  in 
beauty,  or  to  bring  forth  fruit,  or  to  glorify 
God  before  men,  while  his  eye  is  riveted  else- 
where than  on  Christ,  is  absurd.  "  He  that 
hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  not  life." 

The  life  of  the  soul  cannot  be  sustained  ex- 
cept by  the  right  exercise  of  its  affections  to- 
ward Christ ;  therefore  to  suppose  faith  and 
repentance  to  be  merely  terms  upon  which 
God  has  arbitrarily  stipulated  to  make  us 
happy,  is  absurd.  "  He  that  belie veth  on  the 
Son  hath  everlasting  life,  and  he  that  believeth 
not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of 
God  abideth  on  him."  "  This  is  eternal  life, 
to  know  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ." 

Is  it  irksome  to  you  to  think  of  Christ?  Do 
you  let  out  your  best  affections  somewhere 
else  than  toward  him  ?  Do  you  find  no  spirit- 
ual refreshment  in  praying  to  him  ?  in  reading 


26  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    NATURE. 

of  him  ?  in  hearing  of  him  ?  in  seeing  him  in 
the  atonement,  in  the  sacrament,  in  the  events 
of  his  providence,  and  in  the  works  of  his  hands, 
—  in  the  moon  and  the  stars  which  he  has  or- 
dained ?  Then  your  soul  is  wrong, —  all  wrong ; 
not  only  guilty,  but  acting'  wrong,  —  acting  in 
defiance  of  its  very  law.  And  because  so  act- 
ing, and  in  so  acting,  it  is  all  disarranged,  —  it 
is  all  upturned.  You  are  doing  violence  to 
your  own  soul ;  using  it  as  it  was  never  made 
to  be  used.  You  have  "  no  life  in  you."  You 
are  dead,  —  plucked  up  by  the  roots,  —  wither- 
ing, famishing,  fruitless,  joyless,  hopeless.  You 
are  going  down  to  your  grave  all  unfit  for 
heaven  ;  all  ripening  for  the  second  death. 


II. 

SPIRITUAL  LIFE,  — ITS   GROWTH. 

We  never  can  enter  heaven  unless  our  souls 
are  spotless.  We  must  bear  the  perfect  image 
of  Christ.  "  Every  thought  must  be  brought 
into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Christ"; 
every  motion  of  the  affections  must  be  in  exact 
accordance  with  the  law  and  will  of  God ; 
every  disposition  to  do  wrong  must  be  slain ; 
every  feature  of  the  inner  man  must  be  just 
like  an  angel's,  just  like  Christ's, —  or  we  shall 
not  enter  into  rest ;  we  shall  surely  lie  down 
in  sorrow.  We  must  first  "  come  unto  the 
measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ." 
There  must  be  glory  upon  us  like  Christ's  glorv. 
There  must  be  beauty  upon  us  like  Christ's 
beauty.  There  must  be  perfectness  within  us 
like  Christ's  perfectness.  We  must  be  "  with- 
out spot  or  blemish  or  any  such  thing." 

No  truth  is  more  clearly  revealed  in  the  Bi- 
ble than  this. 

Heaven  is  the  soul's  perfect  happiness  ;  and 
heaven  is  the  soul's  perfect  holiness.  There  is 
no  heaven  without  a  perfect  likeness  to  Christ, 


28  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, 'ITS    GROWTH. 

any  more  than  there  is  heaven  without  perfect 
happiness.  And  this  is  so,  not  because  God 
has  said  it  shall  be  so,  but  because  he  has 
made  us  such  that  it  must  be  so.  It  is  so,  not 
merely  because  God  must  disconnect  happi- 
ness and  sin,  or  else  wink  at  sin ;  not  merely 
because  he  must  deny  heaven  to  the  imperfect 
in  order  to  be  consistent  as  a  governor,  —  an 
administrator  of  law  ;  but  because  perfect  holi- 
ness is  essential,  in  itself,  to  perfect  happiness  ; 
and  that,  too,  irrespective  of  Divine  consisten- 
cy. There  is  necessity  for  perfect  holiness  as 
a  condition  of  heaven  here,  —  here,  —  in  the 
very  wants  and  capacities  of  the  soul  itself. 
Hence  the  necessity  of  moral  renovation  to 
those  who  are  "  dead  in  trespasses  at>d  sins  "  ; 
the  necessity  of  turning  about  from  the  law- 
less misuse  of  our  faculties  to  that  use  of  them 
for  which  we  were  made  ;  the  necessity  of  be- 
coming "  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus."  And 
inasmuch  as  the  sinner  is  ''''fully  set  to  do  evil  '* 
with  his  faculties,  hence  the  necessity  that  this 
moral  renovation,  if  effected  at  all,  be  effected 
by  the  Holy  Spirit.  There  must  be  a  begin- 
ning of  holiness.  There  must  be  a  beginning 
of  resemblance  to  Christ.  There  must  be  a 
beginning  to  that  life  of  the  soul  which  is  by 
the  birth  through  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  well  as 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  29 

to  that  natural  life  which  is  by  the  birth  of  the 
body.  There  must  be  a  first  right  emotion  of 
the  soul  Godward  and  Christward  in  order  to 
spiritual  life,  as  well  as  a  first  filling  of  the 
langs,  or  a  first  throb  of  the  heart,  in  order  to 
the  life  of  the  body. 

But  the  commencement  of  spiritual  life  is 
not  its  perfection. '  That  exercise  of  the  affec- 
tions toward  Christ  which  constitutes  the  life 
of  the  soul,  does  not  constitute  fitness  for 
heaven.  Love  to  Christ  is  not  always  perfect 
love.  Resemblance  to  Christ  is  not  always 
perfect  resemblance.  There  is  a  wide  differ- 
ence between  spiritual  life  in  heaven,  and 
spiritual  life  on  earth.  There  is  a  wide  differ- 
ence between  the  joy  which  fills  the  heart  of 
an  angel,  and  that  which  first  beats  in  the 
heart  of  a  new-born  soul  on  earth.  A  differ- 
ence not  in  kind,  but  in  degree  ;  not  in  nature, 
but  in  strength,  in  vigor,  in  fulness.  But  all 
this  difference  must  cease.  The  intermediate 
ground  between  the  holiness  of  the  new-born 
convert  and  the  glorified  saint  must  all  be 
passed  over.  The  babe  must  "  come  unto  a 
perfect  man  "  before  he  can  stand  side  by  side 
with  the  patriarch  or  the  angel  above. 

The  difference  between  spiritual  life  and  spir- 


so  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH. 


itual  death  is  this,  —  when  dead^  the  soul's 
affections  are  employed  without  reference  to 
God's  law.  The  man  loves  what  he  pleases 
to  love,  and  as  he  pleases  to  love  ;  he  does  what 
he  pleases  to  do,  and  as  he  pleases  to  do  ;  with- 
out stopping  to  ask,  —  "  What  is  God's  will  ?  " 
"What  is  right?"  "  What  is  wrong  ?  "  "How 
has  God  made  me?  "  "  For  what  has  God  made 
me  ?  "  He  just  throws  himself  upon  the  objects 
around  him,  and  loves  them,  and  serves  them, 
and  lets  alone  the  objects  above  him, — God,  his 
Creator,  his  Saviour.  Alive,  the  soul  lets  out 
its  chief  affection  to  Him  who  made  it ;  asks 
for  God's  will,  for  God's  glory,  for  God's  law, 
in  the  direction  and  in  the  measure  of  its  emo- 
tions ;  loves  what  God  pleases  it  should  love, 
and  strives  to  love  as  God  pleases  it  should  love. 
Dead,  it  so  directs  and  proportions  its  affec- 
tions, that  it  gathers  as  many  sorrows  as  it  does 
pleasures,  as  many  griefs  as  it  does  delights ;  it 
so  behaves,  that  it  is  dependent  solely  upon  the 
restraints  of  Divine  grace,  and  upon  the  mush- 
room objects  of  this  present  state,  for  its  present 
exemption  from  perfect  misery.  Alice,  its  ef- 
forts to  control  its  affections  aright  are  efforts 
each  tributary  to  its  happiness.  So  far  as  it 
succeeds,  so  far  it  finds  happiness.  All  its 
emotions  which  are  in  accordance  with  its  rule 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  31 

of  action  are  heavenly  and  blissful,  —  its  emo- 
tions toward  God,  its  emotions  toward  the 
world. 

Its  first  efforts  are  feeble.  Its  first  delights  are 
feeble.  Its  first  efforts  are  imperfect, — very,  very 
imperfect;  and  so  are  its  first  delights.  The  first 
outfiowings  of  its  love  toward  Christ,  though 
they  may  flash  and  sparkle  like  the  mountain 
spring  in  the  sunbeam,  are  but  a  little  rippling 
stream  ;  though  they  may  leap  and  bound  with 
gladness,  they  are  still  small;  though  they  may 
seem  clear  as  crystal,  and  all-beauteous  in  their 
pureness,  yet  they  are  shallow  and  of  a  span's 
breadth.  But  as  they  go  on,  they  swell ;  they 
deepen ;  they  widen.  They  may  have  less  of 
sprightliness,  but  they  have  more  of  strength. 
They  may  have  less  of  clearness,  but  it  is  be- 
cause they  have  more  of  depth.  In  other  words, 
spiritual  life  is  progressive  in  this  respect,  —  the 
love  for  Christ  is  becoming  stronger  and  strong- 
er; the  heart  is  devoted  to  him  with  more  fervor 
and  with  less  fluctuation  ;  its  affections  toward 
earthly  objects,  —  towards  wealth  and  kindred, 
—  are  becoming  more  chaste  and  heaven-like, 
and  tranquil ;  "  the  issues  of  life,"  the  conversa- 
tion, the  conduct,  are  more  and  more  like  Christ's. 
Of  course  spiritual  enjoyment  is  proportionally 
augmenting;  the  enjoyment  of  Christ  is  more 


32  SPIRITUAL    LIFE,  —  ITS    GROWTH. 

and  more  ;  the  enjoyment  of  Christ's  outward 
blessings  is  more  and  more  ;  and  thus  the  soul 
goes  on  from  obedience  to  obedience,  from  love 
to  love,  from  grace  to  grace,  from  strength  to 
strength,  from  gladness  to  gladness ;  till  it  gets 
the  victory  over  the  last  corruption,  attains  to 
spiritual  maturity,  wakes  up  in  the  perfect  like- 
ness of  Christ  and  to  "fulness  of  joy." 

There  are  slips  in  the  Christian  course. 
There  are  sad,  sinful,  shameful  relapses  from 
the  onward,  upward  tendency  of  spiritual  life. 
There  are  many  wanton  and  presumptuous 
exposures  to  temptation,  which  bring  their 
cursing  blights  upon  the  soul's  holy  growth, 
and  shroud  it  in  darkness,  and  buffet  it  with 
tempests.  But  still  it  advances.  It  recovers 
what  it  has  lost,  and  then  rises  to  higher  holi- 
ness and  richer  joys.  By  and  by,  it  becomes 
steadfast  in  its  love ;  perfect  in  its  efforts  ;  per- 
fect in  its  glories ;  perfect  in  its  enjoyments ; 
ripe  for  heaven.  But  it  reaches  this  point,  it 
surmounts  the  world,  it  gains  the  summit  of 
perfection,  it  ascends  unto  fulness  of  joys,  step 
by  step. 

The  little  bird,  just  fledged,  flutters  from  its 
nest  with  chirping  and  gladness.  But  it  must 
warble  many  a  solitary,  broken  note ;  it  must 
take  many  a  blundering,  devious  flight  from 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  33 

bush  to  bush,  from  field  to  field ;  and  then,  it 
can  go  upwards  ;  then,  it  can  wing  its  way 
straight  and  strong;  then,  it  can  utter  its  song 
rich  and  clear.  So  the  soul,  just  brought  into 
"  newness  of  life,"  must  make  many  an  effort 
in  unpractised  weakness,  and  glean  up  many 
imperfect  and  fluctuating  joys,  and  sing  many 
a  broken,  faltering  note,  ere  it  can  be  attuned 
fully  to  the  new  song,  matured  to  the  stature 
and  strength  of  an  angel,  and  able  to  "  mount 
up  with  wings  as  eagles." 

But  I  drop  this  course  of  thought.  I  have 
said  enough  preliminary  to  my  object.  Let 
me  (will  you?)  take  you  aside,  my  Christian 
brother,  and  whisper  a  word  or  two  in  your 
private  ear  in  reference  to  what  I  have  now 
stated. 

Are  you  a  weak  and  trembling  believer  in 
Christ?  Is  there  a  feeble,  fluttering  motion  of 
spiritual  life  within  you  ?  Does  it  sometimes 
eeem  good  and  reviving  to  you  to  get  a  twi- 
light perception  of  Christ's  excellence  ?  so  good 
that  you  long  for  the  full  disclosures  of  eternal 
day?  Does  it  seem  to  you  that  you  would 
like  to  twine  your  affections  strongly,  steadily, 
upon  him  ?  Yes.  There  is  sweetness  to  your 
ear  in  the  sound  of  his  name.     The  mention 


34  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH. 

of  his  love  quickens  the  beatings  of  your  heart, 
and  the  light  of  your  eye.  Your  emotions  to- 
wards him  are  sometimes  discernible  and  happy. 
But  they  are  so  faint,  so  few,  so  far  between,  — 
they  are  so  different  from  what  they  should  be, 
that  you  point  to  these  very  feelings  as  wit- 
nesses against  yourself.  Yes,  you  are  affright- 
ed because  you  lack  the  vigor,  the  completeness, 
the  sympathy,  of  spiritual  manhood.  You  sit 
down  to  look  at  the  feeble,  fitful  affections  of 
your  heart  toward  Christ ;  you  sit  down  and 
mark  the  great  difference  between  yourself  and 
what  you  ought  to  be,  —  the  vast  difference 
between  yourself  and  those  who  have  "  sat  at 
Christ's  feet"  for  years,  between  your  knowl- 
edge of  Christ  and  theirs,  —  and  you  are  fright- 
ened. 

Frightened  at  what?  Because  you  are  not 
strong  in  faith.  Because,  as  you  are  not  strong 
in  faith,  and  strong  in  hope,  and  strong  in  spir- 
itual joys,  it  seems  to  you  that  you  have  no 
faith  and  no  hope  and  no  happiness.  You 
argue,  that  because  you  are  weak,  therefore  you 
are  dead;  that  because  you  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  point  to  your  own  abundant  fruits,  there- 
fore you  bear  neither  blossom  nor  bud;  that  be- 
caus*^  vour  joys  have  not  been  strong  and  rich 
diid   ."Steady,  therefore  you  have  no  union  to 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  35 

Christ,  —  no  spiritual  life  at  all.  Why!  my 
brother  beloved,  your  reasoning  is  a  babe's  rea- 
soning !  Your  judgment  is  a  babe's  judgment. 
You  talk  and  think  very  like  a  babe  in  Christ 
Jesus ;  yes,  —  I  repeat  it,  —  like  a  babe  in  Christ 
Jesus.  You  admit,  — .you  cannot  deny,  —  that 
there  is  something  like  attraction  between  you 
and  Christ ;  some  faint  yearning  within  you  to 
go  and  "sit  at  his  feet";  some  feeling  like  this, — 
that  you  would  love  to  hold  communion  with 
him  if  you  dared,  or  if  you  could,  or  if  you  knew 
how  to,  —  that  it  would  be  to  you  a  sweet 
privilege  to  discover  his  excellence  and  love  if 

you  might What  is  all  this  within  you  ? 

What  is  it  but  the  infant  motion  of  spiritual 
life  ?  What  is  it  but  the  fruit  of  the  spirit  ? 
Would  the  natural  heart,  would  the  man  "dead 
in  trespasses  and  sins,"  sigh  for  the  perception 
of  Christ?  Never;  never.  Therefore  I  say, 
that,  if  those  feelings  are  your's,  you  are  a  babe 
in  Christ.  But  you  infer,  that  because  of  their 
littleness  you  have  no  ground  to  hope  that  you 
"  have  passed  from  death  unto  life." 

Let  me  tell  you,  —  infancy  comes  before 
childhood ;  childhood,  before  manhood.  He 
who  would  become  a  saint  in  heaven  must  first 
be  a  babe  in  Christ.  The  beginning  of  spiritual 
life  is  always  infantile,  weak,  unsteady,  small. 


36  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH. 


Is  it  right,  is  it  rational  even,  for  you  to  suppose 
that  the  new-born  child  of  God  should,  at  the 
first  pulsation  of  spiritual  life,  overleap  all  the 
weakness  and  timidity  of  childhood,  and  stand 
forth  at  once  in  all  the  strength  of  perfect  man- 
hood,— "in  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ "  ?  Is  it  right,  is  it  reasonable, 
for  you  to  suppose  that  spiritual  life  of  a  day's 
duration  should  be  as  strongly  marked  as  that 
of  a  year's  duration  ?  that  that  of  a  year's,  or  of 
three  or  five  years'  duration,  should  approach  as 
near  maturity  as  that  of  "  an  old  disciple  "  ?  Is 
it  reasonable  for  you  to  say,  that,  as  you  have 
not  the  spiritual  vigor  and  the  spiritual  comfort 
of  one  who  has  been  long  in  Christ's  school, 
therefore  you  have  none  ?  "Why  I  it  is  just 
as  though  I  should  find  a  stripling  of  half  a 
score  of  years  trembling  under  the  awful  ap- 
prehension that  he  had  none  of  the  elements 
of  manhood,  because,  forsooth,  he  fell  short  o\ 
manhood  in  stature,  and  strength,  and  wisdom. 
Surely,  the  only  comfort  I  could  give  him  would 
be  to  tell  him  that  he  ivas  a  child,  —  a  foolish 
child  indeed  ;  but  a  very  child,  pushing  upward, 
day  by  day,  to  a  better  stature  and  a  better 
understanding.  The  only  comfort  I  could  give 
him  would  be  to  tell  him  that  he  ivas  a  child ; 
and  that  in  his  childhood  was  his  hope  and 
promise  of  manhood. 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  37 


And  so  I  would  tell  you^  my  brother.  The 
smallness  of  your  affection  for  Christ  is  the 
hope  and  the  promise  of  maturity  in  Christ. 
The  feebleness  of  your  faith  is  the  groundwork 
of  a  strong  faith.  The  faintness  of  your  spir- 
itual perception  is  evidence  that  you  see.  The 
tremulousness  of  your  spiritual  enjoyments  is 
an  earnest  of  eternal  life.  Spiritual  life  is  pro- 
gressive. Therefore  its  beginnings  must  be 
small,  and  weak,  and  imperfect,  and  fluctuating. 

Again.  Is  there  within  yoii^  my  brother,  a 
little,  feeble  outgoing  of  your  affections  to 
Christ?  a  little,  feeble  effort  to  conform  your- 
self within  and  without  to  him  ?  a  little,  feeble 
measure  of  delight  as  you  think  or  read  or  hear 
of  him  who  died  for  you  ?  a  little,  feeble  warm- 
ing of  your  soul  as  you  seek  him  betimes  in 
your  closet  ?  How  came  these  things  there  ? 
Who  gave  them  birth?  What  are  they?  The 
least  such  feeling  within,  —  be  it  so  small  even 
that  you  can  scarcely  discern  it,  —  the  least  such 
feeling  within  you  is  of  the  work  of  God.  It 
is  the  feeble  beginning  of  eternal  life.  It  is  a 
matter  in  which  you  ought  to  rejoice.  It  is 
something  which  ought  to  fill  you  with  grati- 
tude. It  is  something  which  ought  to  quicken 
you  to  outbursting  praise.     It  is  of  grace.     It 


38  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH. 

is  of  God.  It  is  all  of  grace.  It  is  of  pure 
grace.  It  is  the  budding  of  spiritual  life  in  the 
heart  of  one  who  was  bound  and  cursed  with 
spiritual  death.  It  is  a  bow  of  promise  arch- 
ing over  a  dark  and  polluted  heart.  And  for 
that,  — yes,  for  that  imperfect,  feeble,  infantile 
motion  of  your  feelings  towards  Christ,  —  you 
ought  to  utter  praise  ;  unblushing,  open  praise. 
For  that,  —  little  as  it  is,  —  you  ought  to  re- 
ceive the  seal  of  Christ's  covenant,  and  utter 
the  open  vow  of  consecration,  and  pledge  him 
your  soul  and  body  in  the  cup  of  the  sacra- 
ment. 

And  more.  That  motion  of  your  feelings 
towards  Christ;  that  inclination  to  weep  with 
penitence  and  joy  as  you  think  of  his  dying 
love;  that  melting  tenderness  of  spirit  which 
you  sometimes  feel  toward  him,  gentle  and 
child-like  as  it  is,  —  is  GocVs  work.  It  is  a 
work  of  grace.  It  is  ground  for  hope  that  you 
"  have  the  Son  of  God";  that  you  have  Life. 
It  is  the  first  swelling  of  a  little  seed  which 
shall  sprout  and  shoot  up  and  grow  unto  per 
fed  Life.  But  it  is  a  small  and  feeble,  though 
a  precious  thing;  therefore  watch  it;  guard 
it ;  cherish  it ;  culture  it.  Go  with  it  to  the 
mercy-seat.  Go  with  it  to  the  cross.  Go 
with  it,  day  by  day,  to  the  closet ;  that  there  it 


SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH.  39 


may  be  nourished  by  your  communings,  by 
j^our  tender  and  tearful  and  confidential  fellow- 
ship, with  your  Redeemer.  It  is  a  small  and 
feeble  thing  to-day  ;  therefore  take  care,  — 
take  precious  care,  —  lest  something  over- 
whelm it  and  stunt  it  to  the  bitter  sorrow  of 
your  soul.  There  it  is.  God  has  implanted 
it.  Deal  well  with  it,  for  it  is  an  earnest  of 
his  grace ;  it  is  the  purchase  of  Redeeming 
blood ;  it  is  the  germ  of  your  soul's  immortal 
life  ;  it  is  the  only  pledge  of  your  salvation. 
Spiritual  life  is  progressive.  Its  beginnings 
are  small  and  tender.  They  must  not  be  de- 
spised. They  must  not  be  neglected.  They 
must  have  tender  nursing  and  care.  They 
must  be  trained  and  guarded  by  prayer,  by 
truth,  by  Christian  sympathy,  by  Christian  fel- 
Vowship,  by  all  —  all  —  the  means  of  spiritual 

culture.    "  Work  out  your  own  salvation, 

for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you." 

Once  more.  Is  there  within  yoii^  my  broth- 
er in  covenant,  —  is  there  within  you  a  little, 
feeble  outgoing  of  your  affection  toward 
Christ  ?  a  little,  feeble,  fluttering  pulsation  of 
spiritual  life  ?  And  how  long  has  it  been 
there?  Ten,  fifteen,  twenty  years?  What! 
and  is  it  yet  feeble?  yet  faint?  yet  small? 
Are    you   yet   a   babe?     yet   a  babe  in   your 


40  SPIRITUAL    LIFE, ITS    GROWTH. 

knowledge,  in  your  love,  in  your  hope,  in  your 
faith,  in  the  pureness  and  beauty  of  your  out- 
ward life  ?     Shame  I  shame  I     Sin  I  sin  I 

And  did  you  care  only  to  be  "  born  again  "  ? 
only  to  be  adopted  ?  only  to  get  the  signet- 
mark  of  salvation  ?  only  to  have  a  little,  weak, 
infant  hope  of  heaven,  —  a  something  that  you 
could  turn  to  and  cling  to  in  trouble  ?  Why, 
"  you  ought  to  be  a  teacher,  and  now  you  have 
need  that  one  teach  you  again  which  be  the 
first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God"!  And, 
at  this  rate,  when  will  you  be  ready  to  depart  ? 
when  ^dll  you  be  fit  for  heaven  ?  when  will 
your  spirit  be  in  perfect  unison  with  Christ, 
with  saints,  with  angels?  At  tins  rate, — 
when  ?  Remember,  spiritual  life  is  progres- 
sive. And  it  has  remained  in  its  infancy  in 
you  because  it  has  had  no  nourishment.  And 
it  has  had  no  nourishment  because  you  have 
not  eaten  freely  of  "  the  bread  of  life  " ;  be- 
cause you  have  not  lived  in  close  and  daily 
fellowship  with  Christ ;  because  you  have  neg- 
lected the  fellowship  of  his  saints.  It  is  your 
shame.  It  is  your  sin,  my  brother.  Not  your 
shame  and  your  sin,  that  you  have  these 
symptoms  of  spiritual  life,  or  that  you  are  a 
babe  in  Christ ;  but  that  you  have  been  a 
babe  so  long ;  that  you  have  not  grown  in  ho- 


SPIRITUAL    LIFEj-^-ITS    GROWTH.  ll 

liness,  in  hope,  in  faith,  in  strength,  in  spiritual 
happiness.  Remember,  spiritual  life  is  pro- 
gressive. You  must  "  come  unto  a  perfect 
man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ"  You  viiist.  You  must,  or 
you  cannot  enter  his  courts ;  you  cannot  see 
his  glory  ;  you  cannot  wear  your  crown  ;  you 
cannot  take  your  harp.  Then  drop  your  sin  ; 
drop  your  shame.  "  Put  away  the  childish 
things  "  of  spiritual  lile.  Give  yourself  to  the 
w^ork  of  its  culture ;  so  that,  when  he  comes, 
you  may  meet  your  Lord  in  peace.  Make 
haste,  —  make  haste  to  ripen  for  heaven.  "  The 
day  is  far  spent."'  The  work  is  a  great  work, 
and  it  must  —  it  must  be  done. 


III. 

DAILY  FAITH  IN  CHRIST. 

St.  Paul  was  a  Christian.  He  was  Christ's. 
He  was  the  property  of  Christ  in  the  fullest 
sense,  —  in  a  peculiar  sense.  He  was  Christ's 
by  consecration ;  Christ's  by  service.  He  had 
baptized  his  every  member  unto  Christ.  He 
had  stamped  the  signet-mark  of  voluntary 
surrender  to  Christ  upon  every  bodily  power ; 
upon  every  power  of  thought;  upon  every  in- 
ward affection.  Christ  was  his  Lord,  his  Mas- 
ter ;  he,  Christ's  humble,  happy,  devoted,  stead- 
fast servant. 

He  had  not  always  been  Christ's  property 
in  this  sense.  Once  he  was  "  a  blasphemer, 
and  a  persecutor,  and  injurious."  The  life 
which  he  once  lived  in  the  flesh  was  against 
Christ,  wholly  and  bitterly.  But  the  life 
which  he  lived  when  he  wrote  to  the  Galatian 
church  was  another  life.  It  was  for  Christ. 
It  was  by  Christ.  It  was  ivith  Christ.  It  was 
in  Christ.  Speaking  of  himself  and  his  Chris- 
tian associates,  he  says :  — "  None  of  us  liveth 
to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself:   foi 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  43 

whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  and 
whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord ;  wheth- 
er we  live,  therefore,  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's." 

Such  was  the  life  of  the  chief  of  the  Apos- 
tles. Not  a  life  devoted  to  himself,  or  to  his 
kindred,  or  to  the  Church  ;  but  a  life  devoted 
to  Christ;  tributary  to  h'is  own  good,  to  the 
good  of  his  kindred,  to  the  good  of  the  Church, 
onlij  as  they  were  Christ's,  —  only  for  Christ's 
sake,—  only  in  the  way  of  serving  Christ. 

What  Paul  did  as  Christ's  servant,  we 
ought  to  do.  What  Paul  was  as  Christ's, 
we  ought  to  be.  The  life  which  he  lived,  we 
ought  to  live.  We  ought  to  be  as  much,  as 
steadfastly,  as  happily,  devoted  to  Christ  as 
Paul  was.  Christ  has  loved  us  as  truly  as  he 
loved  Paul.  He  has  given  himself  for  us  as 
well  as  for  Paul.  We  have  as  truly  lived 
against  Christ,  as  Paul  did.  And  we  have  the 
means  of  sustaining  a  Christian  life,  —  a  con- 
sistent, uniform,  beauteous  Christian  life, — 
as  well  as  Paul.  Our  obligations  are  no  less 
than  his.  Our  ingratitude  and  perverseness 
have  been  no  less.  Our  means  of  grace  are 
no  less.  Our  outward  temptations,  and  our 
inward  corruptions,  are  no  greater. 

Paul  maintained  the  consistency  and  beauty 
of  his  course  "  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus."    "  The 


44  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

life  whicn  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,"  said  he,  "  I 
live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  When 
he  bore  the  taunts  and  buff'etings  of  the  San- 
hedrim with  a  bold,  but  meek  spirit,  it  was 
"  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  When  he 
stood  up  alone  before  the  supreme  court  of 
Athens,  and  spake  against  the  religion  of  their 
fathers,  it  was  "  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God."  When  he  made  Felix  tremble,  and 
woke  Agrippa  to  compunction,  it  was  "by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  When  he  overcame 
temptation  ;  when  he  fought  against  his  in- 
dwelling sin  and  against  wild  beasts  in  the 
theatre  ;  when  he  counted  worldly  things  but 
loss;  when  he  bore  up,  under  full  joy,  against 
the  maddened  tide  of  persecution  ;  when  he 
was  led  to  crucifixion  glorying  in  the  prospect 
of  a  martyr's  death,  and  singing  hymns  of 
thanksgiving  and  victory, —  it  was  "by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God."  This  was  the  spring 
of  his  Christian  life.  This  was  the  secret  of  hip 
Christian  consistency.  This  was  the  means 
of  his  Christian  triumphs.  All  his  devoted- 
ness  to  Christ  was  sustained  by  faith  in  Christ. 
His  devotedness  to  Christ  was  an  every-day 
devotedness.  Of  course  the  faith  by  which  it 
was  sustained  was  an  every-day  faith. 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  45 

There  is  much  Christian  faith,  —  true,  sav- 
ing faith,  —  which  is  not  in  motion.  In  other 
words,  there  are  many  (and  to  their  shame  be 
it  said)  who  have  been  taught  of  the  Spirit  to 
exercise  faith  in  Christ,  who  have  within  them 
the  elements  of  faith,  yet  are  not  believing;. 
They  know  how  to  confide  in  Christ  as  their 
strength.  They  know  how  to  confide  in  his 
blood  of  atonement.  They  know  how  to  con- 
fide in  him  as  their  bosom  friend.  And  they 
do  so  confide  in  him  sometimes;  and  some- 
times they  do  not.  When  they  do  not,  they 
are  believers,  it  is  true;  but  they  are  not  he- 
lieving  believers.  Faith  exists,  and  it  is  a 
faith  which  will  work;  which  must  work; 
which  will  work  by  love ;  which  will  purify 
the  heart;  which  will  overcome  the  world. 
But  to-day  it  is  slumbering.  The  man  goes 
forth  to  his  business ;  he  comes  across  tempta- 
tions ;  he  feels  the  irruptions  of  indwelling  sin ; 
he  bows  beneath  the  burdens  of  care  and  vex- 
ation of  spirit,  of  petty  and  of  solemn  afflic- 
tions ;  he  quivers  under  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
adversary ;  he  groans  under  a  sense  of  weari- 
ness, and  desertion,  and  spiritual  restlessness, 
and  gloom  ;  —  but  he  does  not  rest  upon  Christ. 
He  does  not  exercise  his  faith.  To-day,  he 
does  not  gather  up  his  troubles,  —  his  fears,  — 


46  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

his  questions  of  duty, —  his  dangers,  —  hig 
sins,  —  his  corruptions,  —  and  spread  them  all 
out  before  Christ. 

But  a  lively  faith  is  something  more.  It  is 
faith  —  in  action.  It  is  the  heart  actually  go- 
ing out  towards  Christ.  It  is  the  eye  actually 
j)erceiving  his  excellence,  his  love,  his  sufficien- 
cy, his  grace,  his  glory.  It  is  the  soul  actu- 
ally awake  to  its  immense  necessities  as  a  sin- 
ner, to  its  every-day  necessities  ;  awake  to  the 
precious  truth  that  Christ  is  fitted  to  those 
necessities,  in  aU  their  number,  length,  and 
breadth.  "  He  is  worthy  to  be  loved.  He  is 
worthy  to  be  trusted  with  any  thing,  —  with 
every  thing.  I  see  his  love,  his  power,  his 
grace,  his  glory.  There  they  shine,  in  the 
firmament.  There  they  shine,  in  providence. 
Here  they  shine  in  my  own  existence ;  in  my 
endowments;  in  my  history.  And  there, — 
there,  —  I  see  them,  in  subduing  and  unri- 
valled brightness,  in  his  suffering  of  death.  I 
will  seat  myself  beneath  his  cross,  and  look,  and 
love,  and  trust,  and  praise.  The  Son  of  God 
loved  me.  He  gave  himself  for  me.  He  cares 
for  me.  Trust  him  I  ought,  —  I  must,  —  I  will, 
—  I  do."    Such  is  the  language  of  a  lively  faith. 

But  it  does  not  stop  here.  It  does  not  stop 
with    mere   perceptions.     A   faith   which  sits 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  47 

down  to  read  the  love  upon  the  cross,  and 
looks  np  to  praise  it,  corresponds  with  him  who 
bled  thereon.  Its  perceptions  impel  it.  They 
impel  it  \o  fellowship.  A  lively  discerning  of 
Christ  leads  the  beholder  to  a  lively  confiding 
in  Christ.  And  thus  when  the  eye  and  the 
heart  are  open  to  what  Christ  is,  and  to  the 
soul's  dependence  upon  Christ  as  he  is,  the  be- 
liever believes.  He  points  to  his  sins,  and  trusts 
Christ  for  their  pardon.  He  speaks  to  Christ 
of  his  corruptions,  and  trusts  him  for  the  aid 
necessary  to  their  subjection.  He  tells  Christ 
of  his  own  weakness,  and  trusts  him  for 
strength.  He  lays  open  the  imperfection  of 
his  services,  and  yet  trusts  him  for  acceptance. 
He  counts  over  his  exposures  to  sin  from  the 
influences  of  a  seductive  world,  and  trusts  in 
Christ  for  protection.  He  numbers  and  de- 
scribes the  troubles  and  conflicts  of  his  soul, 
and  trusts  Christ  for  support  and  sympathy. 
Every  matter  which  is  dear  to  him,  every  mat- 
ter of  solicitude,  he  commends  to  Christ,  and 
leaves  with  him.  Under  a  daily  perception  of 
his  Redeemer's  love,  he  unbosoms  himself  to 
him  fully.  He  who  sees  what  Christ  is,  what 
he  has  done,  what  he  can  do,  what  he  is  will- 
ing to  do  for  eveiy  individual  sinner,  has  some- 
thing to  say  to  him.     He  has  his  tribute  of 


48  DAILY    FAITH     IN    CHRIST. 

praise  and  thanksgiving  to  render.  He  has  his 
tale  of  wants,  and  fears,  and  hopes,  and  sins, 
to  tell  over. 

Tliis  is  a  lively  faith ;  a  faith  which  is  per- 
ceiving something;  a  faith  which  is  per^.eiving 
"the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus" ;  a  faith  which  is 
doing  something ;  a  faith  which  is  commend- 
ing the  soul's  necessities,  without  reserve  and 
without  misgivings,  to  Him  who  cares  for  it. 

But  it  does  not  stop  here.  It  is  a  lively 
faith.  It  is  an  untiring  faith.  It  is  an  every- 
day faith.  Every  day  it  studies  Christ.  Every 
day  it  ponders  his  excellence.  Every  day  it 
sits  beneath  the  cross.  Every  day  it  is  aivake; 
awake  to  the  fulness  and  preciousness  of  the 
Son  of  God.  Yes  ;  and  every  day  it  leads  the 
believer  to  the  mercy-seat ;  to  the  place  of  com- 
munion and  fellowship  with  his  Redeemer.  It 
never  thinks  of  doing  enough  in  the  way  of 
intercourse  with  Christ  to-day  to  suffice  for  the 
wants  and  emergencies  of  the  soul  to-morrow. 
It  never  thinks  of  communing  so  much  with 
him  to-day,  that  it  will  not  need  to  return  to- 
morrow. To-day,  it  spreads  out  the  wants 
and  burdens  of  to-day  ;  to-morrow,  the  wants 
and  burdens  of  to-morrow.  It  is  as  much  alive 
to  the  soul's  necessities  and  dependence,  as  to 
the  sufficiency  and  love  of  Christ.     And  while 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  4^ 

it  cannot  suffer  the  believer  to  think  that  to- 
day's communion  with  Christ  will  answer  thf 
pm'poses  of  to-mon-o\v,  so  it  does  not  suffer  hinv 
to  think  that  he  can  live  to-day  on  the  strength 
of  communion  yesterday,  or  on  the  intention  of 
communion  for  to-mon-ow.  A  lively  faith  in 
Christ  reveals  our  dependence  as  an  every-day 
dependence.  It  shows  us  that  our  circumstan- 
ces are  shifting  daily  ;  that  our  n'ecessities  are 
changing  daily ;  and  that,  of  course,  we  have 
something  to  commit  to  Christ  daily.  It  shows 
us  that  we  cannot  steadily  progress  in  the 
Christian  life  without  every-day  ministrations 
of  grace  ;  that  we  cannot  get  our  every-day 
ministrations  except  by  every-day  fellowship. 
And  thus,  while  it  keeps  us  awake  to  Christ's 
fulness,  awake  to  our  wants,  and  awake  to  our 
dependence,  it  impels  us  daily  to  a  throne  of 
grace  to  rehearse  our  troubles,  our  wants,  our 
dang  'rs,  in  the  ear  of  Him  who  can  help  us. 

A  Ively  faith  is  a  faith  moving  within  us, 
and  /noving  ^^s  daily.  This  is  its  peculiarity; 
it  n'  >ves,  it  is  awake,  it  does  not  rest,  it  docs 
not  dumber.  It  shows  us  Christ's  excellence 
eve  f  day ;  it  draws  us  into  his  presence  every 
day  It  impels  us  every  day,  not  only  to  con- 
fi?  ^  in  him,  but  to  confide  to  him  and  to  confide 
f   ?r//  thing'  to  him. 


50  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

But  a  lively  faith  in  Christ  produces  fruits 
It  produces  the  same  fruits  in   all  cases.     It 
produces  the  same  sort  of  results  in  the  life  of 
the  believer  now  that  it  produced  in  the  life  of 
the  Apostle  Paul. 

It  sustains  the  believer  in  his  devotedness  to 
Christ.  Paul  expressly  declares  that  it  was  so 
with  him.  His  was  a  life  of  uniform  devoted- 
ness to  the  Lord.  All  that  he  did,  he  did  for 
Christ.  All  that  he  suffered,  he  suffered  for 
Christ.  Whether  he  ate  or  drank,  whether  he 
preached  the  Gospel  or  wrought  as  a  tent- 
maker,  he  did  all  for  Christ.  And  what 
prompted  him  to  this  devotedness  ?  "What 
sustained  him  in  this,  through  perils  and  re- 
proaches and  temptations  and  sufferings  ? 
Why,  it  was  his  faith;  his  faith  in  exercise ; 
his  daily  confiding  in  Christ  and  to  Christ.  It 
was  his  strong  conviction  of  Christ's  love  for 
him;  his  daily  confidence  in  Christ's  strength  ; 
his  daily  confiding  of  his  wants,  his  perils,  his 
all,  to  Christ. 

And  so  it  is  with  every  Christian  disciple. 
An  acting,  lively  faith  will  produce  the  same 
results  in  him.  He  will  do  all  for  Christ.  He 
will  labor,  and  suffer,  and  teach,  and  eat,  and 
drink,  and  go  about  his  daily  business,  be  it  in 
a  sail-loft,  or  in  a  counting-room,  for  Christ. 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  51 

How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  When  a  poor, 
guilty,  rescued  sinner  opens  his  eyes  upon  the 
sufferings  of  the  cross,  can  he  help  leaping  on- 
ward in  the  service  of  Him  who  suffered  there? 
When  he  looks  back  to  the  pit  whence  he  has 
been  digged ;  when  he  remembers  the  worm- 
wood and  the  gall  of  his  spiritual  bondage ; 
when  he  looks  upon  the  cross  and  can  say,  as 
Paul  did,  and  with  full  perception  of  the  truth, 
"  The  Son  of  God  loved  me  and  gave  himself 
for  vie"  —  can  he  refrain  from  doing  what  he 
can  for  that  Son  of  God?  When  he  is  believ- 
ing' that  he  is  "  bought  with  a  price,"  with  that 
price,  can  he  feel  that  he  is  his  own  ?  When 
he  is  believing  that  he  is  brought  from  death  to 
life,  from  darkness  to  light,  from  hopelessness 
to  hope,  from  the  gate  of  hell  to  the  gate  of 
heaven,  —  and  this,  too,  by  grace,  by  that  grace, 
by  the  grace  of  the  cross,  — can  he  leap  amid 
the  eddies  of  worldly  business  and  forget  it? 
Can  he  sit  down  amid  the  vintage  and  the  olive 
plants  of  his  own  household,  and  forget  who  has 
bought  and  who  bestowed  them  ?  Can  he  he/p 
conducting  his  worldly  business  as  Christ 
would  have  him  ?  Can  he  help  attempering  his 
social  enjoyments  as  Christ  would  have  him  ? 
Can  he  he/p  doing  all  things  for  Christ  ?  What ! 
a  man  go  away  in  the  morning  from  the  sanc« 


52  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

tuary  of  his  closet;  from  a  season  of  close  com 
munion  with  Christ;  from  a  distinct  and  re- 
freshing perception  of  redeeming  love ;  from 
the  business  of  committing  his  way  for  the 
day  to  ^he  supervision  and  care  and  sustaining 
grace  of  his  spiritual  Shepherd,  —  go  away  from 
all  this,  and  then  live  that  day  for  himself^  not 
for  Christ!  What!  go  from  the  fountain-head 
of  living  water  thirsting  for  the  muddy,  brack- 
ish pools  of  the  world  I  What!  go  away  from 
the  precious  whisperings  of  a  Saviour's  love  to 
be  charmed  by  the  glittering  and  chinking  of 
silver  and  gold  !  No.  That  lively  perception 
of  Christ,  —  that  lively  committal  of  one's  ways 
to  him,  —  that  lively  reposing  of  one's  self  upon 
the  care,  the  grace,  the  strength,  the  protection, 
the  salvation,  the  covenant  oath  of  Christ,  —  is 
not  something  which  passes  off  with  the  shad- 
ows and  dews  of  the  morning.  It  controls  the 
believer's  conduct,  it  sanctifies  his  motives, 
through  the  day.  It  makes  him  live  for  Christ. 
in  his  getting  of  gain  he  remembers  Christ. 
That  faith  impels  him  to  the  simple,  but  happy 
devotion  of  time,  strength,  property,  children, 
body,  soul,  all,  to  the  wishes  and  service  of 
Christ.  It  must  be  so.  The  case  needs  only 
to  be  stated,  —  the  natural  force  of  the  most 
sacred,  the  most  impulsive,   of  all  influences 


DAILY     FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  53 

to  which  the  soul  can  be  subjected  needs  only 
to  be  apprehended,  —  and  we  see  that  it  must 
be  so. 

But  on  this  point  —  the  productiveness  of 
lively  Christian  faith  —  another  thought. 

Under  all  the  casualties  of  life,  under  all  the 
lying  and  affrighting  suggestions  of,  Satan, " 
under  the  consciousness  of  ill-desert  and  in- 
dwelling sin  to  which  the  believer  in  Christ  is 
subjected,  this  faith  will  make  him  happy  —  in 
Christ.  The  faith  of  Paul  was  lively  when  he 
was  beaten  ;  when  he  was  hunted  from  city  to 
city ;  when  he  was  shipwrecked ;  when  he 
was  condemned  to  crucifixion.  And  under 
all,  he  was  happy  in  Christ.  Satan  buffeted 
him ;  but  still  he  was  happy  in  Christ.  He 
knew  that  he  deserved  "  everlasting  destruc- 
tion from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  "  ;  he  knew 
that  there  was  "  sin  dwelling  in  him  "  ;  but 
still  he  was  happy  in  Christ.  It  was  his 
\i\e\j  faith  in  Christ  which  made  him  so. 

The  same  faith  does  the  same  thing  for 
every  believer.  A  wordly  affliction  comes. 
This  faith  keeps  the  eye  open,  still,  to  the  per- 
ception of  Christ.  And  while  the  believer  is 
surveying  his  fulness  of  love,  of  tenderness,  of 
grace,  to  this  fountain-head   he  comes.      He 


54  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

comes  instinctively.  He  comes,  with  his  gush- 
ing heart,  for  support  and  sympathy.  He  has 
lost  a  r6'or/<://// comfort ;  the  wsiuner^  therefore^ 
is  his  appeal  to  Christ  for  heavenly  comfort. 
He  draws  nearer  to  him,  for  now  he  has  more 
to  deposit  with  him.  He  has  more  to  disclose, 
m.ore  to  ask ;  and  so  his  hour  of  fellowship  is 
more  full  of  trust,  of  earnestness,  of  gladness. 
He  is  shut  out  from  the  sunshine  of  worldly 
solace  and  prosperity.  Yet  is  his  eye  open  to 
the  precious  love  and  sympathy  of  Christ;  and 
to  Christ  he  flees,  like  a  weary  bird  to  its  nest; 
like  the  way-worn  traveller  to  his  couch ;  like 
the  shipwrecked  mariner  to  the  bosom  of 
friends  and  the  comforts  of  his  fireside;  the 
more  happy  in  his  place  of  refuge  because  of 
the  darkness  and  terrors  and  sharpness  of  his 
adversity.  He  sees  and  feels  that  all  around 
him  "  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  Yes  ; 
and  this  too  he  sees,  —  like  a  light  shining  in 
darkness,  —  like  the  gushing  of  a  fountain  in 
the  desert,  —  that  Christ  is  full  of  riches,  full 
of  grace,  full  of  love  ;  that  Christ  is  a  treasure 
for  hwi,  a  treasure  "  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever."  And  thus  troubles,  afflictions, 
bereavements,  are  tributary  to  his  purest  hap- 
piness through  the  ti'ansmuting  influence  o{' 
lively  faith. 


Daily  faith  in  christ.  55 

In  like  manner,  when   Satan  mutters  about 
the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart,  about  the  multi- 
tude of  sins,  about  the   conditions   of  grace, 
about  the  few  that  are  saved,  a  lively  faith 
says,  "  What  if  I  may  not  trust  my  heart  ?  I 
will  trust  Chri-st.     What  if  my  sins  are  many 
What  if  there  are  conditions  of  grace  ?     Wha 
if  there  are  few  that  are  saved  ?  I  will  trust  my 
self  with  Christ.     He  has  love,  and  power,  and 
grace,  and  of  each  an  overflowing  fulness.     In 
him  I  may  and  will  confide.     And  thus,  while 
the  believer  is  trusting'   in    Christ,  while  his 
faith  is  lively^  he  baffles  the  adversary  and  is 
kept  in  peace.     "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  per- 
fect peace  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee." 

And  so,  too,  when  he  looks  in  upon  the 
startling  corruptions  of  his  heart,  a  lively  faith 
still  displays  the  tenderness  and  sufficiency  of 
Christ ;  so  that  in  him  he  is  the  more  glad, 
and  for  him  the  more  grateful,  because  of  the 
very  extent  of  his  sins  and  the  very  hatefulness 
of  his  corruptions. 

If  faith  in  Christ  is  lively^  nothing  can  ex- 
clude buoyancy  of  heart.  The  perceiving  of 
Christ,  —  the  confiding  in  Christ,  —  the  con 
fidiiig  of  troubles,  of  sins,  of  life,  of  death,  of 
soul,  of  all,  to  Christ,  —  overpower  afflictions, 
terpptations,  the  fear  of  the  law,  and  the  fear 
of«m. 


56 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 


But  yet  more  ;  this  lively  faith  in  Christ  will 
make  the  believer  a  consistent  Christian. 

It  appeals  to  Christ  for  strength.  It  appeals 
to  him  for  protection  from  the  evil  of  the 
world.  It  appeals  to  him  for  grace  to  sm*- 
mount  and  subdue  indwelling-  sin.  It  casta 
tlie  soul  entirely  and  boldly  upon  Christ  for 
protection  through  the  surrounding  perils  of 
the  hour.  It  is  not  the  way  of  our  precious 
Saviour  to  withhold  his  help  from  those  who 
are  trusting  him  thus.  He  never  did  it.  He 
never  will  do  it.  He  never  can  do  it.  That 
appeal  of  a  lively  faith  must  be  suspended, 
that  cry  must  cease,  that  imploring  look  must 
pass  away,  or  the  grace  must  be  given.  There 
is  too  much  love  in  Christ,  too  much  tender- 
ness, too  clear  a  remembrance  of  his  oiun  temp- 
tations, too  much  fidelity  to  his  own  covenant 
oath,  for  him  to  withhold  this  grace  when  it  is 
thus  sought.  Lively  faith  secures  it.  It  is 
granted  "  according  to  the  proportion  of  faith." 
It  comes  down  from  above  as  steadily,  as 
largely,  as  faith  goes  up  to  ask  it.  He  whose 
faith  in  Christ  is  in  exercise  never  trips,  nevei 
staggers,  never  falters  in  his  course.  The 
charmer  may  charm  ever  so  wisely  ;  the  grace 
of  Christ  is  his  and  is  sufficient.  Snares  may 
be  spread  ever  so  abundantly  and  ever  so  skil- 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  57 

fully, — the  grace  of  Christ  guides  him.  The 
world  may  smile,  or  scoff,  or  promise,  or  cajole, 
but  the  grace  of  Christ  keeps  him  ;  the  arm  of 
Christ  is  under  him  ;  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is 
with  him  ;  the  power  of  Christ  is  imparted  to 
him.  He  may  be  in  the  thickest  perils,  but  he 
is  upheld.  And  for  aught  the  world  can  do, 
his  visible  life,  while  his  faith  is  lively^  will  be 
upright  and  spotless.  None  can  say  of  him 
that  he  breaks  his  oath  ;  none,  that  he  is  false 
to  his  Lord. 

Besides,  a  lively  faith  is  a  lively  perception 
of  Christ's  exceeding  loveliness.  In  the  eye  of 
faith  the  glory  of  Christ  is  pictured  in  brighter 
colors  than  the  fading  and  fitful  beauties  of 
the  world.  Christ  is  imaged  upon  the  heart 
by  an  acting  faith  so  as  to  eclipse  them.  The 
friendship  of  the  world  is  contemptible  in  con- 
trast with  that  of  Christ.  The  loving-kindness 
of  life's  best  relation  —  a  mothet'^s  loving-kind- 
ness—  is  tame,  is  tasteless,  is  low,  is  cold,  is 
powerless,  in  contrast  with  that  of  Redeeming 
Grace.  The  pleasures  of  fleshly  indulgence 
are  stale,  their  enticing  power  is  crippled,  to 
him  whose  lively  faith  has  just  led  him  to 
communion  with  Christ,  and  has  just  prompt- 
ed him  to  thanksgiving  for  Redeeming  Love. 
With  a  lively  faith,  —  a  faith   faithfully  por- 


58  DAILY    FAITH     IN    CHRIST. 

traying  Christ's  glory,  and  warming  us  with 
gratitude  for  Redemption,  —  wherever  duty 
calls  we  can  go  unharmed;  be  it  amid  ever  so 
many  enticements  ;  be  it  upon  a  sea  of  care 
and  business  ever  so  wide  or  tumultuous. 

A  lively  faith  is  a  security  against  tempta- 
tion ;  it  is  a  guaranty  of  a  consistent,  beauti- 
ful, uniform  Christian  life  ;  because  it  appro- 
priates the  sufficiency,  the  nourishment,  the 
impelling  and  controlling  influence  of  Redeem- 
ing Love. 

But  methinks  some  one  will  say,  "  This  is 
fancy  ;  this  is  the  poetry  of  piety.  The  pic- 
ture does  not  tally  with  facts.  It  does  not  an- 
swer to  piety  in  real  life.  It  might  have  been 
so  with  Paul.  His  ivas  a  life  devoted  to 
Christ.  He  was  happy  in  Christ.  He  vjas 
consistent  as  a  Christian.  The  life  which  he 
led  ivas  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God.  But 
where  do  we  see  such  faith  producing  such 
fruits  now?  Are  Christians  here,  upon  oui 
right  hand  and  upon  our  left,  steadfast  in  their 
devotion  to  Christ  ?  Are  they  happy  in  Christ  ? 
Are  their  lives  beauteous  with  consistency? 
Where  is  their- Christian  zeal?  Where  their 
Christian  conversation  ?  Where  their  eager- 
ness for  Christian  worship  ?  Where  their  dili- 
gent use  of  the  means  of  grace  ?     Where  their 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  59 

spirituality  of  life?  We  see  them  abound  in 
indolence,  in  stupidity,  in  worldly-mindedness, 
in  worldly  business,  in  heaviness  of  heart ;  but 
where  can  we  find  these  wondrous  influences 
which  you  ascribe  to  Christian  faith  ?" 

And  you  yourself,  my  Christian  brother,  are 
ready  to  echo  the  words  and  say,  —  "  Where 
are  these  wondrous  influences  ?  where  is  my 
devotedness  ?  where  my  joy  in  Christ?  where 
my  consistency  of  life  ?  " 

There  they  are,  —  there  they  are,  where 
your  Christian  faith  is  ;  laid  aside,  —  out  of 
sight,  —  asleep,  —  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
gone.  Suppose  that  you  are  truly  a  disciple 
of  Christ,  —  your  faith  has  gone  to  rest.  You 
have  checked  its  lively  outgoings.  Yesterday, 
—  last  year,  —  you  believed  in  Christ.  And 
when  you  put  forth  your  faith,  —  when  you 
drank  in  the  goodness  of  Christ,  —  then  you 
lived  for  him  ;  then  you  was  happy  in  him  ; 
then  your  light  shone  ;  and  you  labored  and 
spake  and  behaved  like  one  who  belonged  to 
Christ.  But  now  your  faith  has  pausecj.  It 
does  not  move.  And  therefore  you  have  ceased 
to  produce  these  precious  fruits  of  faith.  Re- 
member,—  I  have  not  said  that  every  believer 
is  devoted  and  happy  and  consistent.  I  have 
spoken   only   of  the   believing'  believer  ;    of  a 


60  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

lively  faith ;  of  a  faith  which  is  moving  —  every 
day.  Your  slumbering  faith,  for  present  pur- 
poses, is  trash.  To-day  it  is  of  no  avail.  And 
—  what  is  w^orse  —  it  is  not  invigorated,  re- 
fresh ed,  by  its  slumbering.  Wake  it  up.  Wake 
it  up.  Fill  your  thoughts  and  your  heart  with 
Christ.  Come  back  to  your  habits  of  warm- 
hearted fellowship.  Come  and  seat  yourself, 
day  by  day^  beneath  the  droppings  of  his  blood. 
Come  and  study,  day  by  day,  the  wonder,  the 
price,  the  grace  of  your  redemption.  Come,  open 
the  eye,  open  the  ear,  open  the  heart,  to  Christ ; 
and  see  if  you  do  not  recover  your  devoted- 
ness,#  your  gladness,  your  consistency,  your 
Christian  influence.  See  if  you  do  not  regain 
your  power  with  God  and  prevail.  See  if  you 
do  not  become  a  daily  blessing  to  those  who 
are  bone  of  your  bone  and  flesh  of  your  flesh, 
and  who  are  ready  to  perish  in  sin.  Come, 
and  see  if  you  cannot  shame  the  cavils  of  those 
who  question  the  power  and  the  blessedness 
of  Christian  faith. 

Your  heaviness  of  heart,  your  spiritual  apa- 
thy, your  deficiencies  of  life,  your  fluctuations, 
are  not  because  you  have  a  lively  faith  in 
Christ,  but  because  you  have  not.  They  are 
because  you  have  suspended  the  heavenly  em- 
ployment of  beholding  Him  who  is  your  Life, 


DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST.  61 

and  of  trusting  him,  —  day  by  day.  Was 
you  ever  gloomy  when  your  faith  was  lively  ? 
Never.  It  was  when  you  had  lost  your  per- 
ception of  Christ.  It  was  when  you  had  lost 
your  access  to  Christ.  It  was  when  the  heav- 
ens were  as  brass  over  you  because  of  your  — 
xmbelief.*  It  was  when  you  did  not  go  and 
spread  out  your  sorrows  to  Christ  with  all  the 
fulness  and  freeness  of  whole-hearted  trust. 
Was  you  ever  weary  of  doing  all  things  for 
Christ,  of  laboring  devotedly  for  his  kingdom 
and  glory,  when  you  was  full  of  a  confiding 
perception  of  his  dying  love  ?  Never.  It  was 
when  you  had  shut  your  eye,  or  turned  it 
away  from  the  cross,  and  filled  it  with  some 
other  thing.  It  was  not  when  you  was  be- 
lieving. Was  you  ever  entrapped  by  a  world- 
ly seduction  when  the  excellence  of  Christ  was 
full  in  view  ?  when  your  heart  was  on  fire  with 
your  musings  about  his  loveliness  and  tender- 
ness and  truth  ?  Never.  It  was  when,  for  a 
day  or  an  hour,  you  forgot  him.  It  was  when 
you  failed  to  drink  deep  at  the  fountain  of  liv- 
ing waters.  It  was  on  some  day  when  you 
gave  your  faith  a  respite. 

And  how  is  it  with  you  now,  my  brother 

*  The  unbelief  of  a  believer  !    "  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou 
mine  unbelief."    Mark  ix.  24. 


62  DAILY    FAITH    IN    CHRIST. 

beloved  ?  Heavy-hearted,  —  gloomj^,  —  sleepy 
—  inconsistent,  —  to-day  ?  And  where  is  your 
faith  ?  Out  of  sight.  Out  of  service.  Inac- 
tive. And  therefore  you  go  along  slumbering 
and  sorrowing  and  staggering  in  your  course. 
A  life  of  beautiful,  happy,  consistent  devoted- 
ness  to  Christ  is  "  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God."  It  is  by  a  faith  which  will  show  you, 
and  make  you  feel  in  your  Very  soul,  that  he 
loved  you^  and  gave  himself  for  you.  Look  at 
this.  Look  at  this.  Let  your  heart  move,  and 
leap,  and  melt  away  in  gratitude  and  peni- 
tence. Let  your  faith  act,  —  daily,  —  and  I 
will  venture  you  in  a  tornado  of  afflictions  and 
temptations.  Forget  this,  —  fail  to  get  a  lively, 
subduing  perception  of  Christ's  lowe  for  you, — 
a  single  day,  —  I  say,  a  single  day,  —  and  a 
breath  of  wind,  which  would  not  move  an  as- 
pen-leaf, will  prostrate  you  in  shame  and  sor- 
row and  sin.  If  there  come  the  least  trial  of 
your  earthly  affections,  the  least  form  of  temp- 
tation, you  are  gone  ;  you  are  overcome  ;  you 
are  fallen. 


IV. 

THE  CONDITIONS  OF  SALVATIOK. 

Unless  the  Bible  is  an  impertinent  directory 
in  spiritual  affairs,  it  is  evident  that  God  has 
annexed  certain  conditions  to  his  offers  of  sal- 
vation by  Christ.  Although  they  are  couched 
in  various  forms  of  language,  they  may  be 
summarily  expressed  in  two  words,  —  "Re- 
pentance "  and  "  Faith." 

Yet  God  has  declared  as  plainly  as  words 
can  declare  it,  —  he  has  proved  as  clearly  as 
deeds  can  prove  it,  —  that  he  has  no  pleasure 
in  the  death  of  the  sinner.  He  has  obviated 
the  great  difficulty  of  remitting  the  penalty  of 
sin  and  yet  maintaining  the  honor  of  his  Law, 
by  sending  his  Son  to  make  atonement  for 
us,  so  that  he  can  justify  the  sinner  and  yet  be 
just.  These  things  being  so,  it  seems  at  first 
view  strange  that  God  should  dictate  terms  to 
those  whom  he  loves  ;  to  those  for  whose  sins 
innocent  blood  has  been  shed.  It  seems  a 
strange  thing  for  a  Father,  infinite  in  grace 
and  tenderness,  to  take  advantage  of  his  erring 
child's  dependence  and  necessity,  and  bargain 


64  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

with  him  for  pardon  and  loving-kindness.  It 
seems  a  strange,  posture  for  a  yearning  father 
to  assume,  —  to  sit  down  over  against  a  child 
clad  in  rags  and  perishing  for  bread,  and  make 
a  contract  with  him  for  food  and  raiment  and 
home  ;  strange  —  for  such  an  one  to  say,  "  If 
you  will  do  so  and  so,  I  will  help  you  ;  but  if 
you  refuse,  I  will  not  help  you."  And  such  a 
course  seems  passing  strange  on  the  part  of 
our  Heavenly  Father,  when  he  might  bless 
(because  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ)  without 
losing  one  particle  of  his  honor  ;  without  abat- 
ing one  principle  of  his  holy  government ; 
without  repealing  one  tittle  of  his  Law. 

Yet  this  is  the  fact, —  God  does  propound 
/conditions  of  salvation.  Strange,  or  not  strange, 
—  consistent,  or  not  consistent,  —  God  does 
say,  that  if  we  accede  to  these  conditions  we 
shall  have  eternal  life  ;  that  if  we  do  not,  we 
shall  go  into  everlasting  punishment.  Let  us 
examine  this  fact,  —  Jesus  Christ  has  made  an 
ample  atonement  for  sins,  and  still  God  offers 
salvation  upon  conditions. 

The  popular  notion  of  salvation  is  sufficient- 
ly correct.  Being  sinners,  we  are  exposed  to 
punishment,  i.  e.  suffering.  If,  either  because 
it   would   be   unjust,   or    because   the   tender 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  65 

love  of  God  must  compel  him  to  preclude  suf- 
fering, or  for  any  cause  whatever,  we  are  not 
exposed  to  punishment,  then  the  notion  of  sal- 
vation is  absurd.  It  is  a  wild  conceit.  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  salvation.  But  again  ;  be- 
ing sinners,  we  are  exposed  to  punishment  or 
suffering  hereafter.  We  are  not  saved  from 
punishment,  i.  e.  we  are  not  exempt  from  suf- 
fering,—  here;  and  if  there  is  no  danger  of 
our  suffering  there,  ih^n  there  is  no  salvation 
at  all. 

If,  then,  we  steer  clear  of  downright  absurd- 
ity while  we  talk  about  salvation,  we  under- 
stand that  we  are  justly  exposed  to  suffering 
beyond  this  present  life.  We  do  so,  because 
we  understand  that  the  salvation  which  God 
.offers  us  in  the  Gospel  is  deliverance  from  evil 
hereafter. 

The  common,  and  the  common-sense  idea 
of  salvation,  embraces  so  much  as  this  at  least, 
—  a  freedom  from  all  suffering  after  we  leave 
this  world  ;  from  suffering  to  which,  under  the 
constituted  order  of  things,  we  are  verily  liable 
as  sinners.  In  other  words,  salvation  is  eter- 
nal happiness  in  the  stead  0/ eternal  misery. 

Now  the  conditions  of  this  salvation  are  — 
Repentance  and  Faith.     What  connection  is 


66  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

there  between  salvation  and  the  performance 
of  these  conditions  ?  To  state  the  question  in 
diflerent  terms,  —  What  influence,  if  any,  have 
Repentance  and  Faith  upon  our  happiness 
hereafter  ? 

Watch  the  influence  of  any  feeling,  or  of 
any  act  which  God  has  forbidden,  upon  our 
happiness  even  in  the  present  life.  What  is 
it?  Good,  or  ill?  Call  to  mind  your  own 
experience.  When  you  have  been  angry, 
when  you  have  been  peevish,  when  you  have 
been  envious,  have  you  been  happy?  If  you 
have  ever  allowed  yourself  in  any  form  of  vice, 
have  you  had  a  quiet  mind?  When  you  have 
centred  all  your  expectations  upon  some 
worldly  good  ;  when  you  have  wedded  all 
your  affections  to  some  earthly  object;  have 
those  things  so  filled  your  mind,  —  have  they 
so  met,  and  responded  to,  your  heart's  desire, 
—  that  you  could  honestly  say,  —  "I  have 
enough  "  ?  Have  they  so  tallied  with  the  ne- 
cessities of  your  soul  as  to  quell  its  cravings 
and  hush  its  fears?  When  you  have  "loved 
the  creature  more  than  the  Creator";  when 
you  have  devoted  your  thoughts,  and  your 
strength,  and  your  time,  and  your  all,  to  some- 
thing here  on  earth,  rather  than  to  God  ;  have 
you  been  so  void  of  fear,  so  free  from  inward 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  67 

disquietude,  so  exempt  from  the  rebukes  of 
conscience,  that  you  were  a  happy  man  ?  Did 
"  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll  across  your  peace- 
ful breast"?  Was  there  no  restless  craving 
for  something  more  and  for  something  better? 
no  bitter  thought  that  you  and  your  idols  must 
part  ?  no  disturbing  consciousness  that  you 
was  doing  wrong  —  to  God  ? 

Your  experience,  —  my  experience, — the  ex- 
perience of  the  world,  —  go  to  show,  that  the 
allowance  of  any  wrong  passion,  of  any  "  in- 
ordinate affection,"  is  in  itself  evil.  Of  itself, 
it  brings  anhappiness.  Here  are  wants  within 
us  which  are  in  no  wise  met  by  the  things 
"  which  perish  with  the  using."  Here  are  sus- 
ceptibilities within  us  which  are  in  no  wise  at 
ease,  while  we  are  tossed  with  passions,  and 
stimulated  by  "  inordinate  affections."  Here 
is  a  conscience  within  us  which  is  by  no 
means  clean,  while  we  thus  depart  from  the 
law  of  God.  But  this  is  impenitence ;  per- 
sisting in  disobedience  of  God. 

Again.  Here  is  a  man  whose  heart  rises  up 
against  some  mishap  in  his  worldly  affairs. 
God  has  sent  it  upon  him,  and  he  knows  it. 
But  he  is  unreconciled  to  the  dispensation. 
His  mind  does  not  coincide  with  God's  mind. 
Is  he  happy  ?     He  goes  to  the  Bible.     He  is 


68  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

told  there  that  "  God  will  work  and  none  can 
hinder  it";  that  God  controls  all  things,  all 
men,  all  hearts,  as  he  pleases  ;  that  he  "  will 
have  mercy  on  whom  he  will  have  mercy,  and 
whom  he  will  he  hardeneth."  This  testimony 
«  of  the  Bible  touching  God's  sovereignty  grates 
upon  his  ear  like  a  note  of  discord.  It  wakens 
no  response  of  childlike  confidence  from  his 
heart.  God's  sovereignty  rises  up  before  him, 
and  his  will  rises  up  against  it.  Is  he  happy? 
The  Law  of  God  is  spread  before  him,  with 
its  demand  of  perfect,  eternal  obedience  ; 
with  its  commands  respecting  his  most  secret 
thought  and  wish  ;  with  its  fearful  penalty  of 
death  to  the  soul  that  sinneth.  There  it 
stands.  It  speaks.  It  threatens.  It  presses 
upon  Ids  life  ;  upon  Ids  speech  ;  upon  his 
thoughts  ;  upon  his  accountability  ;  ugon  his 
destiny.  He  clashes  with  it.  His  heart  rises 
up  against  the  commandment,  —  against  the 
penalty.     Is  he  happy  ? 

There  is  GocTs  law;  there  is  God's  sover- 
eignty ;  there  is  God's  providence  ;  and  they 
do  not  meet  his  views,  —  they  do  not  chord 
with  his  heart,  —  they  do  not  agree  with  his 
will.  He  cannot  trust  God  for  a  Law ;  he 
cannot  trust  God  with  the  absolute  disposal  of 
the  universe  ;  he  cannot  trust  God  for  the  daily 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  69 

dispensation  of  providence.  Hence  the  dis- 
agreement between  him  and  what  God  or- 
dains. Hence,  and  hence  only,  his  unhappi- 
ness.    But  all  this  is  —  unbelief. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  find  Repentance 
and  Faith  in  God  closely  associated  with  hap- 
piness. In  their  best  estate  on  earth,  they  are 
imperfect.  But  so  far  as  they  exist,  they  yield 
the  fruits  of  blessedness. 

If  we  restrain  our  passions,  if  we  temper 
our  earthly  affections,  if  we  regulate  our  words 
and  our  daily  conduct  according  to  the  rules 
which  God  gives  us,  we  contribute  so  much  to 
our  own  enjoyment.  So  far  as  we  feel  right 
and  act  right,  so  far  we  are  happy.  So  far  we 
have  peace.  So  far  we  have  the  approval  of 
our  consciences.     And  this  is  —  Repentance. 

Again,  what  is  more  obviously  productive 
of  peace  and  joy  than  confidence  in  God  ? 
When  a  man  can  look  upon  all  the  mysteries 
of  providence,  and  upon  all  his  personal  afflic- 
tions, with  a  full,  a  lively,  a  steadfast,  convic- 
tion that  He  who  has  dispensed  them  has 
done  right ;  when  he  can  say,  with  the  spirit 
of  a  child,  "  Even  so,  Father  "  ;  when  he  can 
thus  throw  himself  with  a  placid  temper  upon 
the  current  of  God's  dispensations  ;  under  the 
blackest    clouds,   under    the    rudest    tempest, 


70  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

adrift  upon  the  wildest  billows,  he  is  happy. 
And  this  is  —  Faith. 

When  he  can  look  upon  the  dazzling  doc- 
trine of  God's  absolute,  universal  supremacy 
with  a  steady  eye ;  when  he  can  tul*n  to  this 
truth  with  an  unwavering  assurance,  that  ev- 
ery decree  and  every  decision,  that  every  ap- 
portionment, both  of  Grace  and  Justice,  will  be 
fight ;  when,  thus  trusting  in  God,  he  can  ac- 
quiesce in  every  particular  of  his  government; 
under  every  mystery,  he  is  happy.  All  things 
—  all  things  —  are  done  according  to  his  will ; 
for  God's  will  is  his,  —  his  will  is  God's.  And 
this  is  —  Faith. 

And  when  a  poor  sinner,  in  full  view  of  the 
terrors  and  strictness  of  the  Law ;  in  full  view 
of  his  own  sins  and  ill-desert ;  in  full  view  of 
his  own  helplessness;  can  trust  in  the  prom- 
ises of  God  through  Christ ;  when  he  can  feel 
that  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  there  is  a  sacri- 
fice for  his  sins  ;  when  he  can  thus  leave  him- 
self quietly  with  God,  and  wait  and  look  for 
salvation ;  surely  this  is  happiness.  Yet  this, 
too,  is  —  Faith. 

When  a  child  of  sorrows,  overwhelmed  with 
hardships  and  stripped  of  earthly  comforts,  can 
go  to  Him  who  has  smitten  him  and  kiss  the 
rod  ;  when  he  can  say,   "  Though  thou  slay 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  71 

me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  thee " ;  when  he  can 
find  his  way  to  the  place  of  secret  communion 
to  recite  his  griefs  and  to  ask  for  sympathy ; 
when  he  can  go  to  the  throne  of  grace  for  con- 
solation ;  though  his  troubles  have  been  like  a 
flood,  and  the  cup  of  his  adversity  like  worm- 
wood, yet  there,  in  that  man's  breast,  —  in  that 
torn  and  bleeding  heart,  —  peace  gushes  up  like 
a  fountain  and  the  happiness  of  heaven  like  a 
reviving  stream.  But  this  is  another  form  of — 
Faith. 

Thus  we  find,  upon  the  most  superficial  re- 
flection, that  impenitence  and  unbelief  are  the 
very  fountains  of  spiritual  wretchedness.  We 
find  also  that  repentance  and  faith  are  the  well- 
springs  of  spiritual  happiness.  Now  transfer 
the  operation  of  these  different  tempers  to  the 
coming  state  of  existence.  In  this  life,  the 
passions  are  in  their  infancy  ;  in  the  next,  in 
their  maturity.  Here,  our  inordinate  affec- 
tions are  checked  ;  there,  let  loose.  Here,  our 
thoughts  are  diverted,  in  a  thousand  ways, 
from  the  truths  and  the  government  and  the 
Law  of  God,  —  by  cares,  by  business,  by  social 
pleasures,  by  the  passing  events  of  a  bustling 
world;  there,  these  things  will  have  no  place. 
Here  we  get  but  a  glimpse,  as  it  were,  of  God's 
Majesty,  of  his  Sovereignty,  of  his  Law,  of  his 


72  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

system  of  Grace,  — "  we  see  through  a  glass 
darkly,"  —  but  there  it  will  be  eye  to  eye, 
"  face  to  face."  Is  it  possible  for  you  to  be 
happy  —  there  —  if  you  are  still  in  sin  ?  Is  it 
possible,  —  when  the  revelations  of  eternity 
will  make  your  soul  as  truly  naked  to  your 
own  view  as  it  is  "  to  the  eyes  of  Him  with 
w^hom  you  have  to  do  "  ?  Is  it  possible,  — 
when  your  "  refuges  of  lies  "  will  all  be  gone  ? 
Is  it  possible,  —  when  your  covering  of  self- 
righteousness  will  be  stripped  off?  Is  it  pos- 
sible,—  when  your  paltry  sophistries  about 
your  own  uncleanness  will  have  vanished  like 
the  dew  —  for  ever? 

If  you  are  unhappy  in  one  degree  when  the 
wrong  feelings  of  your  heart  move  within  you 
here,  under  all  the  restraints  of  grace,  under  all 
the  diversions  of  a  busy  life,  you  may  be  sure 
that,  when  these  restraints  and  diversions  are 
gone,  and  those  wrong  feelings  leap  up  within 
you  like  a  giant  loosed  from  his  bands,  your 
cup  of  misery  will  be  full.     It  must  be. 

If  you  are  unhappy  now^  when  you  get  only 
a  twilight  view  of  the  Law,  and  the  Govern- 
ment, and  the  Sovereignty  of  God,  what  will 
be  the  measure  of  youfunhappiness  then^  when 
(the  same  unbelief  in  your  heart)  that  Law, 
and  Government,  and  Sovereignty  rise  up  be- 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  73 

fore  you  —  ever  before  you  —  clear,  and  bright, 
and  terrible  as  God  can  show  them  ?  What 
viust  it  be  ? 

If  the  whispered  rebukes  of  a  conscience 
wellnigh  stifled,  —  if  the  transient  twinges  of  a 
conscience  wellnigh  seared  by  abuse,  —  harrow 
up  your  soul  here,  what  will  be  its  damning 
power  when  it  shall  recover  its  might,  and  its 
right,  and  take  its  vengeance  —  there  ? 

But  —  should  you  stand  before  God  a  peni- 
tent—  every  thought,  every  wish,  every  em- 
ployment, in  perfect  unison  with  his  will ;  en- 
mity changed  for  love  ;  rebellion,  for  submis- 
sion,—  should  you  stand  there  staying  your- 
self upon  him  in  the  spirit  of  a  pure  and  per- 
fect faith,  —  then,  under  the  cloudless  light  of 
his  Law,  his  Sovereignty,  his  Gospel,  you 
would  find  Life  such  as  angels  have,  and 
blessedness  such  as  God's*  Faith  and  holi- 
ness would  bind  you  to  God  for  ever.  They 
would  make  your  will  commingle  with  God's 
will,  as  kindred  elements  commingle.  They 
would  open  to  you  the  fountains  of  God. 
They  would  yield  to  you  the  fall  fellowship  of 
God.  And  the  clearer  and  the  brighter  the 
purposes,  the  deeds,  the  justice,  tlie  sovereign- 
ty of  God  should  beam  before  you,  —  the  high- 
er would  be  the  influx  of  your  enjoyments, — 


74  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

the  louder  the  outgoings  of  your  praise.  And 
thus,  while  the  successive  disclosures  of  eter- 
nity would  wake  you  to  fresh  emotions  of 
faith  and  obedience,  gladness  would  succeed 
to  gladness,  —  song  to  song,  —  Life  to  Life,  — 
for  ever  and  for  ever. 

But,  if  these  things  are  true,  then  God  is  not 
presenting  himself  before  you,  and  styling  him- 
self your  Father,  yet  playing  with  the  miseries 
of  your  sinful  state  by  presenting  to  you  arbi- 
trary conditions  of  salvation.  He  is  not  bar- 
gaining with  you  for  the  blessings  of  his  grace. 
He  is  not  asking  of  you  something  without 
which  he  might  give  you  salvation.  It  is  not 
true,  that  he  might  save  you  in  impenitence 
and  unbelief,  but  will  not.  It  is  not  true, 
that  he  might  make  you  happy  while  you  are 
what  you  are,  yet  does  not  choose  to  do  it. 
Your  sin  and  your  unbelief  are  to  the  soul 
what  fire  and  famine  are  to  the  body.  They 
are  to  your  soul  what  rottenness  is  to  the 
bones.  They  are  to  your  soul  what  pestilence 
is  to  health.  It  is  not  true  that  Repentance 
and  Faith  are  necessary  to  salvation  just  be- 
cause God  commands  them.  God  commands 
them  because  they  are  necessary.  Salvation 
is    not    hampered  by  superfluous    articles    of 


CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION.  75 

compromise.  It  is  as  free  as  air.  "  The 
promise  is  unto  you  and  to  your  children." 
"  Ho  I  every  one  that  thirsteth."  "  Whosoever 
will,  let  him  come."  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye 
that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden."  Such  are  the 
overtures  of  grace.  Such  are  the  messages  of 
Divine  Love. 

True,  atonement  has  been  made  by  Christ; 
an  atonement  without  which  there  could  have 
been  no  salvation  ;  an  atonement  on  the  basis 
of  which  free  grace  is  proclaimed.  But  that 
atonement  was  not  more  essential  to  salvation 
than  repentance  and  faith  are.  And  though  it 
be,  that  all  power  is  in  God ;  though  it  be, 
that  he  "  delighteth  not  in  the  death  of  the 
sinner"  ;  though  it  be,  that  he  crieth  after  you, 
"  How  can  I  give  thee  up  ?  "  —  yet  it  is  also 
true,  and  as  plainly  true,  that  salvation  cannot 
be  effected  save  in  the  very  way  which  God 
has  prescribed.  Power  cannot  accomplish  it. 
Blood  cannot.     Grace  cannot. 

God  has  done  his  part.  God  has  done  what 
you  could  never  do.  God  has  provided  an 
atonement.  And  now  he  calls  upon  you,  and 
all,  to  do  your  part.  He  calls  upon  you  to  do 
what  he  cannot  do  for  you,  —  to  repent,  —  to 
believe.  He  calls  for  this  simply  because  this 
is  Life ;  this  is  happiness  ;  simply  because  the 

6 


76  CONDITIONS    OF    SALVATION. 

refusal  thereof  is  itself  death  and  woe.  His 
conditions  of  salvation,  therefore,  are  —  simply 
those  affections  of  heart  which  constitute  salva- 
tion. He  offers  you  happiness  on  this  only 
condition,  —  that  you  will  be  happy. 


V. 

PEACE   OF   MIND. 

All  men  seek  after  happiness.  It  is  natu- 
ral. It  is  right.  It  is  duty.  We  were  made 
to  be  happy.  It  was  the  design  of  our  Crea- 
tor;" and,  to  this  design,  he  has  accurately  and 
wisely  fitted  the  various  endowments  of  our 
souls  and  the  circumstances  of  our  outward 
condition.  That  which  will  contribute  to  our 
happiness  he  approves.  That  which  will  pre- 
vent it  —  and  that  only — he  condemns.  In 
seeking,  and  in  making  effort,  to  be  happy, 
therefore,  we  do  but  coincide  with  God.  So 
far,  we  fall  in  with  one  great  object  for  which 
he  made  us. 

But  God,  when  he  framed  us,  made  us  to 
be  happy  in  a  certain  way.  He  so  framed  us 
that  we  can  be  happy  only  in  one  certain  way. 
And  we  differ  from  God,  from  the  law  of 
God,  from  all  the  high  purposes  of  God,  the 
moment  we  pursue  any  other  way. 

Most  men  do  pursue  another  way.  They 
want  happiness.  But  they  seek  it  where  it  is 
not  to  be  found.     They  go  up  and  down  in 


'is  PEACE    OF    MIND.. 

life,,  paying  court  and  tithes  and  homage  to 
a  thousand  worldly  objects;  tossed  by  a  thou- 
sand waves ;  lured  to  and  fro  by  a  thousand 
phantoms;  and  then  —  go  down  to  their  graves 
worn  and  wearied,  disappointed  and  empty- 
handed. 

We  are  surrounded  by  numberless  sources 
of  disquietude  ;  that  is  to  say,  there  is,  per- 
haps, nothing  which  is  not  capable  oi  making 
us  unhappy.  The  prosperity  and  ill-behavior 
of  the  wicked  may  do  it.  The  events  of  prov- 
idence may  do  it.  Our  sins,  —  our  liability  to 
evil,  temporal  or  eternal,  —  may  do  it.  God's 
Law,  —  his  character,  —  his  sovereignty,  —  his 
method  of  grace,  —  may  do  it.  All  these  things 
may  excite  within  us  thoughts  and  feelings 
utterly  preventive  of  enjoyment.  They  may 
awaken  within  us  fear,  or  anger,  or  remorse,  or 
some  other  emotion  of  a  like  nature;  and  thus 
induce  inward  tumult,  from  the  lowest  point 
of  restlessness  to  the  highest  pitch  of  distress 
and  frenzy. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  ma?/  look  upon  these 
things  without  disturbance.  We  can  suffer 
wrong  from  men  without  passion.  We  can 
meet  disappointment  and  adversity  without 
a  single  inward  murmur.  We  can  part  with 
property   and   health;    we    can   give   up    the 


PEACE    OF    MIND.  79 

objects  dearest  to  our  hearts ;  we  can  bury 
all  our  earthly  hopes,  —  without  one  wish  to 
question  or  to  reverse  the  decisions  of  an  ad- 
verse providence.  We  can  survey  the  plan  of 
salvation  ;  the  pureness  and  the  curses  of  the 
Law ;  the  character  and  the  sovereignty  of 
God,  —  without  one  emotion  of  discontent. 
We  can  think  of  our  "  sins  that  are  past,"  and 
of  our  ill-desert;  we  can  look  upon  them  just 
as  they  appear  under  the  clear  light  of  the  Bi- 
ble ;  we  can  behold  our  vileness  in  its  true  de- 
formity, our  condemnation  as  sinners  in  all  its 
terrors,  and  death  and  judgment  and  eternity 
with  all  their  solemnity,  —  without  fear  and 
without  distress.  And  this  is  peace.  This  is 
peace  of  mind.  This  is  "the  peace  of  God 
which  passeth  all  understanding." 

If  our  minds  are  disturbed,  what  does  it 
avail  us  that  we  are  surrounded  by  the  count- 
less tokens  of  our  Maker's  goodness  ?  If  we 
are  uneasy  ivithin^  what  to  us  are  beauty  and 
profusion  luithoul  ?  What  satisfaction  do  we 
get  from  wealth,  from  honors,  from  power, 
from  the  fountains  of  domestic  endearment, 
while  our  "  souls  are  disquieted  within  us  "  ? 
When  we  are  fretful  that  we  cannot  get  more ; 
when  we  are  tossed  with  apprehension  lest  we 
should   lose   what   we   have ;    when   we    are 


80  PEACE    OF    MIND. 

angry  at  some  frowning,  providence ;  when  wc 
feel  this  craving  of  our  spirits  for  something 
better  than  the  world  ;  when  passion  heats  us  ; 
when  sins  affright  us ;  when  conscience  re- 
bukes us,  —  the  very  cup  of  our  earthly  pleas- 
ures is  dashed  with  bitterness.  We  get  not 
half  the  comfort  we  might  get  from  the  com- 
mon blessings  of  life. 

But  if  our  minds  are  at  peace, — then  w^e 
can  behold,  with  open  eyes  and  unclouded 
vision,  the  beauties  of  God's  handiwork  ;  we 
can  drink  with  lively  relish  at  the  fountains 
of  domestic  endearment.  We  can  taste  the 
sweets,  we  can  feel  the  comforts,  we  can  evjoy 
the  blessings,  which  God  has  provided  for  us. 
If  we  are  bereaved  ;  if  we  are  poor  ;  if  we  are 
sick;  if  we  are  despised, — we  can  find  some- 
thing to  enjoy;  the  good  things  which  remain 
to  us  are  not  spoiled ;  the  flowers  still  bloom, 
and  we  can  love  them ;  the  providence  of  God 
is  still  around  us,  and  we  can  rest  upon  it;  the 
Word  of  God  still  abideth,  and  we  can  rejoice 
in  it. 

What  if  temporal  adversity  does  come  like 
a  flood?  What  if  hopes  are  dashed,  and  com- 
forts torn  away  by  thousands  ?  If  we  can 
say,  "  Amen " ;  if  we  can  say,  "  Even  so, 
Father ;  even  so "  /  if  we  can  look  upon  the 


PEACE    OF    MIND.  81 

seeming  severity  of  our  afflictions  without  a 
doubt  of  their  fitness  or  their  rightness ;  if  amid 
al]  we  can  "  sing-  both  of  mercies  and  of  judg- 
ments"; we  are  happy  —  still.  And  what 
though  it  is  declared  to  us  that  God  is  our  Sov- 
ereign ;  that  every  event  of  providence,  of  grace, 
of  punitive  justice,  is  according  to  the  eternal 
counsel  of  his  will?  What  if  it  does  appear, 
that  God  will  dispose  of  us,  and  of  ours,  and 
of  all  things,  just  as  he  pleases  and  only  as  he 
pleases  ?  If  we  have  no  quarrel  with  his  sov- 
ereignty ;  if  we  can  look  with  calmness  upon 
all  the  particulars  of  his  government;  if  we  ac- 
quiesce in  his  absolute  supremacy  ;  if  we  can 
keep  our  minds  at  peace  ;  we  are  happy  —  still. 
And  what  if  we  do  discover  that  we  have  not 
yet  attained  unto  perfection  either  of  heart  or 
life  ?  What  if  we  do  behold  that  we  have  be- 
come obnoxious  to  a  law  whose  penalty  is 
death  ;  that  we  are  speeding  every  hour  to  the 
end  of  our  probation  and  to  the  decisions  of 
the  judgment-day?  If  we  can  see  all  this 
without  remorse  and  without  terror,  if  in  view 
of  all  we  can  be  at  peace^  we  are  happy  —  still. 
And  when  we  come  to  die,  —  though  we  leave 
behind  those  who  cling  to  us  for  support  and 
protection  and  comfort,  —  though  the  question 
is  yet  to  be  solved  whether  we  awake  to  shame 


S2 


PEACE    OF    MIND. 


or  to  glory,  —  though  the  moment  of  our  de- 
parture is  the  moment  when  our  destinies  are 
sealed  for  ever,  —  if  we  can  commit  ourselves 
to  God  without  distrust;  if  we  can  thus  keep 
our  minds  at  peace :  we  are  happy  —  still. 

Now  this  is  worth  more  to  us  —  by  far  — 
than  outward  prosperity.  It  is  better  than  — 
money.  It  is  better  than  —  adding  field  to 
field.  It  is  better  than  —  the  esteem  of  men. 
It  is  better  than  —  children,  — than  princedoms, 
—  than  all  the  world  can  give.  These  cannot 
serve  us  in  the  days  of  our  adversity.  Tliis  — 
can.  These  cannot  uphold  us  in  the  times  of 
our  souls'  necessities.  This  —  can.  These 
cannot  stay  us  up,  and  wake  our  hearts  to 
melody,  when  we  think  of  God ;  of  our  sins  ; 
of  our  day  of  reckoning ;  and  when  we  come 
to  die.     But  this  —  can. 

What  you  want  is  — peace  of  mind.  You 
need  something  more  and  something  better 
than  the  feverish  exhilaration  of  mirth ;  some- 
thing more  and  better  than  the  wearying  ex- 
citement of  worldly  enterprise ;  something 
more  and  better  than  a  self-righteous  compla- 
cency; something  more  and  better  than  wealth 
and  friends.  These  things  can  never  make 
you  happy.     Place  your  hopes  upon  them,  and 


PEACE    OF    MIND.  83 

you  will  reap  a  harvest  of  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. Search  the  world  over,  —  there  is  noth- 
ing in  it  that  can  slake  your  thirst;  nothing 
that  can  fill  your  desires  ;  nothing  that  can 
give  you  rest.  You  want  a  quiet  mind.  That 
guilty  conscience  must  be  purged.  Those  dis- 
turbing passions  must  be  quelled.  That  rest- 
lessness must  be  subdued.  Those  "inordinate 
affections"  must  be  set  in  order.  Those  fears 
about  the  morrow,  —  those  flashing  anxieties 
about  dying  and  about  going  into  eternity, — 
must  be  overcome.  The  moment  your  heart 
rebels  against  the  doings,  or  the  doctrines,  or 
the  government  of  God ;  the  moment  con- 
science upbraids  you  with  unwashen  sins;  the 
moment  you  feel  that  there  is  something  un- 
settled between  yourself  and  God  ;  the  mo- 
ment there  bursts  up  within  you  the  conviction 
of  your  soul's  poverty  and  nakedness; — -that 
moment  you  are  an  unhappy  man. 

You  must  have  such  commotions  stilled. 
You  must  find  peace.  Else  you  cannot  find 
happiness. 

I  point  you,  then,  to  God.  He  can  give 
you  peace.  He  can  still  your  fears.  He  can 
take  away  the  sting  of  guilt.  He  can  keep 
you  quiet  under  every  hardship ;  in  view  of  all 
the  terrors  of  a  broken  law;  through  all  the 
solemnities  of  a  dying  hour. 


84  PEACE    OF    MIND. 

You  need  peace  to  give  you  happiness. 
You  need  God  to  give  you  peace. 

I  pray  you,  then,  go  to  God.  Go,  and  es- 
tablish a  covenant  with  him.  Go,  and  begin 
fellowship  with  him.  Go,  and  make  his 
throne  of  grace  your  daily  refuge  ;  his  mercy- 
seat  your  hiding-place.  When  perils  over- 
hang your  estate  or  your  children ;  when  dis- 
ease and  death  threaten  to  dissolve  your  dear- 
est ties;  when  false  affection  blights  your 
hopes ;  when  the  burdens  of  life  press  you  ; 
when  trifles  vex  you,  — ^o  to  God.  When  you 
think  of  your  sins ;  when  you  feel  the  motion 
of  your  indwelling  corruptions ;  when  you 
fluctuate  between  hope  and  fear  touching  the 
question  of  your  spiritual  adoption,  — go  to  God. 
Go,  —  and  tell  him  your  troubles.  Go,  —  cast 
your  care  upon  him.  Go,  —  pour  out  your 
soul.  Go,  —  like  a  child  to  a  father.  Go,  — 
spread  before  Him  your  sins, —  guilt, — fears, 
—  burdens,  —  corruptions,  —  all. 


VI. 


DIVINE   GRACE    COMMENSURATE   WITH  MAN'S 
NECESSITY. 

The  Grace  of  God  is  the  chief  doctrine  of 
the  Gospel.  It  is  the  great  light  of  the  spirit- 
ual universe. 

It  is  not  Divine  Love  simply ;  but  Divine 
Love  going  out  beyond  the  abodes  of  holiness 
to  find  recipients  for  its  gifts.  It  is  Divine 
Love  coming  with  overtures  of  blessing  to  the 
sinner.  It  is  the  union,  or  partnership  of  Love 
and  Justice  ;  in  which  both  blend  their  glories 
and  unite  their  influence  to  save. 

That  God  can  forbear,  that  he  can  pardon, 
that  he  can  be  gracious,  —  is  our  only  hope. 
It  is  a  sufficient  source  of  joy  and  peace ;  and 
of  incomparable  preciousness.  Yet  few  so 
interweave  themselves  with  the  promises  of 
grace  as  to  attain  to  the  stability  and  peace 
which  they  are  designed  to  impart.  Few  so 
far  divest  themselves  of  unbelief  as  to  appro- 
priate that  spiritual  encouragement  which 
grace  affords.     "  All  the  promises  of  God  in 


86  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED. 

Christ  are  yea,  and  in  him  amen";  they  are 
sure,  boundless,  free  ;  yet  few  partake  of  them 
without  trembling  and  feed  upon  them  with- 
out restraint.  How  seldom  are  doubts  silenced, 
fears  quelled,  unbelief  shamed,  and  the  adver- 
sary foiled  by  the  plea  which  David  used, — 
"  For  thy  name's  sake,  O  Lord,  pardon  mine 
iniquity, /or — it  is  great." 

"  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  oat  God  ? 
Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  to  per- 
fection ?  "  Are  not  the  resources  of  Divine 
grace  equal  to  the  extent  of  human  sinfulness  ? 
Are  not  the  supplies  of  infinite  fulness  equal 
to  the  greatness  of  human  necessity  ?  "  Shall 
not  He  who  spared  not  his  own  Son  with  him 
also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?  "  Why,  then, 
should  our  conception  of  his  grace  be  diminu- 
tive ?  Why  should  we  fear  lest  our  measure 
of  it  be  beyond  the  truth  ? 

One  principle  upon  which  Divine  grace  pro- 
ceeds is,  that  its  own  fulness,  or  sufficiency 
should  be  the  most  gloriously  exhibited. 

The  display  of  God's  grace  is  not  made  in 
the  announcement  of  what  he  might  do,  or 
of  what  he  intends  to  do.  The  display  of 
grace  is  made  in  the  deed  of  grace.  In  pro- 
portion to  the  greatness  of  its  deeds,  is  the 
exhibition   of  its  fulness.     If  its  glory  shines 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAn's    NEED.  87 

bright  and  clear  in  the  pardon  of  one  trans- 
gression, how  much  more  when  it  freely  can- 
cels sins  without  number  and  of  the  deepest 
dye.  If,  for  the  purpose  of  explaining  the 
nature  of  his  grace  and  its  value,  God  forgives 
one  iniquity,  will  he  not  much  more  and  for 
the  same  purpose  —  O  thou  of  little  faith  I  — 
answer  a  penitential  prayer  for  the  forgiveness 
of  2i  7nuUUude  oi  sins  1  Will  he  not,  —  think 
you,  —  when  the  illustration  of  his  grace  is  the 
greater  and  the  more  glorious  because  of  the 
very  excess  of  sin  ?  Indeed,  if  there  is  sin  too 
great  to  be  pardoned  when  pardon  is  humbly 
and  earnestly  sought ;  if  there  is  a  blessing  so 
great  that  it  must  be  refused,  though  humbly 
craved ;  if  a  sinner  suing  for  mercy  must  per- 
ish because  he  is  so  great  a  sinner ;  and  if  a 
needy  suppliant  must  be  denied  because  of  the 
greatness  of  his  prayer,  —  then  what  is  meant 
by  "  the  exceeding-  riches  of  God's  grace  '^ 
which  Paul  so  much  extols  ?  If  these  things 
are  thus,  what  means  Paul  when   he  says, — 

"  God  hath  quickened  us that  in  the 

ages  to  come  he  might  shew  the  exceeding 
riches  of  his  grace"  ?  If  these  things  are  thus, 
is  not  grace  so  reduced  in  its  measure,  so  cir- 
cumscribed and  trammelled  in  its  operations, 
that  it  is  palpably  inadequate  to  its  great  ob- 


88  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED. 

ject,  —  the  showing  forth  of  the  boundlessness 
of  God's  goodness  ? 

'i  For  thy  name's  sake,"  says  the  Psalmist, 
"  pardon  mine  iniquity,  for  it  is  great."  He 
pleads  the  greatness  of  his  sin  as  the  true  rea- 
son for  its  forgiveness.  He  pleads  that  the 
magnitude  of  sin  affords  the  better  opportunity 
for  the  more  glorious  display  of  grace  ;  that 
the  greater  the  act  of  pardon,  the  more  honor 
to  the  name  of  God  ;  and  that  the  greater  the 
sin,  the  greater  the  pardon. 

In  all  our  reflections  upon  the  economy  and 
principles  of  grace,  we  should  always  keep  in 
view  this  grand  truth, — that  in  the  bestow- 
ment  of  pardon  God  always  has  an  eve  to  the 
most  glorious  exhibition  of  his  own  excel- 
lence. 

Another  principle  which  uniformly  regulates 
all  the  operations  of  Divine  grace  is  this,  —  that 
God  herein  seeks  for  the  fullest  exercise  of  his 
infinite  benevolence. 

He  delights  in  the  highest  good  of  his  crea- 
tures ;  in  their  possession  of  that  true,  pure 
happiness  which  results  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  approval,  and  from  a  conformity  to 
his  character.  But  particularly  in  the  dispen- 
sation of  good  to  the  sinner^ — in  visiting  him 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED.  89 

with  hope,  consolation,  liberty,  pardon,  life,  — 
does  God  find  ample  field  for  the  operations 
of  a  kindness  infinite  in  its  exercise  and  im- 
measurable in  its  benefits.  And  if  the  exer- 
cise of  such  benevolence  is  his  delight ;  if  this 
is  one  object  of  his  grace,  —  then  it  is  evident, 
that  the  greater  our  need  of  his  favors,  the 
greater  is  his  readiness  to  grant  them.  Benev- 
olence finds  the  widest  range  in  the  greatest 
act  of  pardon.  Ill-desert  is  not  a  barrier  to  the 
bestowment  of  God's  grace,  but  the  very  in- 
centive to  its  exercise.  Wretchedness  is  the 
very  occasion  of  his  mercies.  The  greater  the 
sin,  the  greater  his  desire  for  its  removal.  The 
greater  the  apostasy,  and  ingratitude,  and  ill- 
desert,  the  greater  his  desire  to  reclaim  and 
bless.  Inasmuch  as  Divine  grace  is  based 
upon  Divine  benevolence ;  inasmuch  as  the 
only  sphere  of  its  operation  is  that  of  guilt  and 
unworthiness  ;  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  attribute 
of  an  Infinite  Mind,  —  we  can  imagine  no  debt 
which  it  cannot  cancel ;  no  sin  which  it  can- 
not bury  ;  no  wretchedness  which  it  cannot 
relieve  ;  no  want  which  it  cannot  supply. 
There  is  no  limit  to  its  greatness  ;  no  end  to 
its  bounties  ;  no  checking  of  its  fulness ;  no 
cessation,  no  weariness,  no  clog  to  its  exercise. 
It  is  an  exhaustless  fountain  flowing  forth  for 


90  DIVINE    GRACE    Ax\D    MAn's    NEED. 

all  who  will  drink  of  its  waters.  It  is  an  infi- 
nite good,  covering  and  liquidating  an  infinite 
evil,  stretching  on  and  accumulating  through 
infinite  duration.  Thus  he  who  receives  its 
ofTers  in  vain,  who  passes  by  its  streams  and 
forfeits  its  benefits,  must  charge  the  conse- 
quences of  his  poverty  to  his  own  pride  and 
his  own  folly.  He  can  in  no  wise  impeach 
the  excellence,  or  disprove  the  sufficiency,  of 
the  grace  of  God. 

Now  if  these  two  things  are  true,  — that  the 
putting  forth  of  Divine  grace  is  for  the  purpose 
of  its  full  exhibition,  and  for  the  complete  ex- 
ercise of  Infinite  benevolence,  —  then  is  it  sure, 
that  human  necessity,  which  makes  drafts 
upon  that  grace  and  gives  the  widest  field  to 
that  benevolence,  is  the  very  object  which  God 
would  search  out  and  relieve.  So  that  Divine 
grace  is  fitted  to  human  need  ;  and  human 
need  is  fitted  to  Divine  grace.  The  principles 
upon  which  it  proceeds  show  us  clearly,  that 
God's  grace  and  man's  need  are  precisely  co- 
incident, to  whatever  height,  or  depth,  or 
length,  or  breadth,  that  need  may  extend. 

When  I  speak  of  man's  need,  I  mean  not 
only  his  need  of  Divine  forgiveness,  but  his 
need  of  every  spiritual  blessing.  The  mere 
pardon  of  the  sinner  is  but  the  preface  of  Di- 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED.  91 

vine  grace.  It  is  only  the  starting  forth  of  a 
seed  which  is  to  grow  ;  which  is  to  grow  on 
earth,  and  to  attain  full  beauty  and  maturity 
in  heaven.  Divine  grace  is  not  completed  in 
the  one  act  of  reconciliation  between  the  sin- 
ner and  God.  It  seeks  to  bestow  all  blessings  ; 
to  dispense  alike  the  most  precious  and  the 
least.  It  would  reclaim,  it  would  sanctify,  it 
would  comfort,  it  would  sustain  the  sinner.  It 
would  transfer  him  to  pure  glory  in  heaven. 
It  would  bestow  upon  him  joys  without  meas- 
ure and  without  end. 

Tims  there  is  no  limit  to  the  bounteousness 
of  Divine  grace.  And  there  is  no  limit  to  its 
hestowment  where  the  grace  is  earnestly  sought. 
I  say,  —  where  it  is  earnestly  sought;  for  he 
who  seeks  not,  desires  not ;  and  he  who  de- 
sires not,  takes  not ;  and  he  who  takes  not  the 
gifts  of  grace,  of  necessity  prevents  their  be- 
stowment.  He  makes  them,  to  himself,  as 
though  they  were  not. 

Though  the  grace  of  God  is  without  limit 
in  every  case  where  penitential  desire  allows 
of  its  exercise,  yet  there  only  is  it  extended, 
fo  a  sinner  with  suck  a  temper  it  is  free. 
When  he  seeks  it  and  importunes  for  it,  it  is 
given  in  abundance. 


92  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED. 

But  here  I  would  advert  again  to  the  pecu- 
liar plea  of  the  Psalmist  David.  At  a  human 
tribunal  it  would  insure  condemnation,  but  at 
the  throne  of  grace  it  is  the  only  one  admis- 
sible. 

That  we  are  sinners,  is  the  argument  which 
appeals  directly  and  forcibly  to  those  very  prin- 
ciples upon  which  the  dispensation  of  Divine 
grace  depends,  —  the  glory  of  God  and  his  in- 
finite benevolence.  It  is  the  plea  which  calls 
his  grace  into  exercise  ;  upon  which  its  be- 
stow ment  depends.  It  was  the  plea  of  David. 
It  was  the  plea  of  the  pubMcan,  through  which 
he  "went  down  to  his  house  justified."  It  is 
the  plea  which  prevails.  It  bears  on  its  front 
the  fundamental  truth  upon  which  every  peti- 
tion of  ours  must  be  based ;  that  truth  which 
is  the  corner-stone  of  every  provision,  of  every 
promise,  and  every  encouragement  of  grace. 

A  plea  of  good  desert  would  be  false.  It 
would  therefore  be  in  vain,  and  impious.  So 
far  from  securing  God's  favor  and  blessing,  it 
would  excite  his  indignation.  The  publican 
went  down  to  his  house  justified  rather  than 
the  Pharisee ;  "  for  every  one  that  humbleth 
himself  shall  be  exalted." 

Would  we  urge  the  plea  that  Christ  has 
died   for    us  ?      A    precious,  valid,  prevailing 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED.  93 

plea  indeed.  But  for  whom  did  Christ  die? 
What  are  we  for  whom  he  died  ?  Sinners. 
If  therefore  we  plead  the  death  of  Christ  for 
the  bestowment  of  any  good  upon  us,  our  plea 
is  notJiing  except  as  built  upon  the  foundation 
plea  that  loe  are  sinners,  —  needy,  helpless 
ruined,  desperate  sinners.  When  we  seek 
Divine  grace,  we  must  present  —  side  by  side 
with  the  great  truth  of  Redemption  —  the 
prominent,  essential  truth  of  our  own  guilt  and 
ruin.  The  influence  of  Christ's  death  ;  the 
gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  pardon,  of  consola- 
tion ;  the  promises  ;  the  proffer  of  assistance ; 
the  invitations  of  love,  —  all  provisions  peculiar 
to  the  Gospel,  —  are  interwoven  with,  and  pre- 
suppose, the  cardinal  truth,  that  ive  are  —  sin- 
ners. 

If  this  truth  do  not  qualify  our  prayers  ;  if 
it  do  not  burn  in  our  hearts  ;  if  it  give  not  ur- 
gency, eloquence,  and  strength  to  all  our  ap- 
peals to  our  Father  in  heaven,  we  must  turn 
from  his  mercy-seat  without  his  smile,  —  with- 
out the  gifts  of  his  grace.  We  must  cling  to 
the  truth  that  we  are  sinners,  —  that  our  "  in- 
iquity is  greats "  —  or  we  must  let  go  the 
promises  of  the  Gospel  and  the  hope  of  eter- 
nal life.  The  argument  of  our  sinfulness  is 
adapted  to  the  character  of  God.     It  is  a  true 


94  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    XEED. 

arsrument.  It  is  the  ars^ument  which  must  be 
urged,  —  importunately,  earnestly,  confidently, 
—  or  we  are  undone. 

Now  if  God  extends  his  favor  to  us,  —  if  be 
makes  us  partakers  of  his  grace,  —  only  on  she 
condition  of  our  urging  this  plea,  then  our  sin- 
fulness, «pon  which  the  sense  and  truthfulness 
of  the  plea  are  based,  must  be  a  reason  for  the 
bestowment  of  grace. 

Therefore,  if  the  greatness  of  his  iniquity  be 
the  sinner's  proper  plea,  if  it  is  itself  the  reason 
for  the  bestowment  of  grace,  and  if  it  creates 
(as  in  truth  it  does)  the  sole  occasion  or  oppor- 
tunity for  grace,  —  how  can  sin,  confessed  and 
argued,  furnish  reason  for  sentence  against  the 
supplicant  for  grace  ?  The  supposition  is  a 
contradiction  to  the  very  idea  of  grace,  which 
depends  upon  ill-desert  for  its  exercise,*  and 
upon  the  plea  of  ill-desert  for  imparting  its  gifts. 

If  this  is  true,  then  the  grace  of  God  is  co- 
extensive with  the  sinner's  iniquity  ;  for  the 
greater  the  sin  and  the  greater  the  consequent 
necessity,  the  more  power  there  is  in  the  argu- 
ment. 


*  Not,  however,  for  its  existence.  Neither  the  existence  of 
sin,  nor  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  was  necessary  to  make  God 
gracious.  On  this  point  the  common  argument  for  the  neces- 
sity of  an  atonement  is  grossly  belied  ;  and,  I  may  say,  carica- 
tured. 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED.  95 

The  grace  of  God  can  reach  as  far  as  your 
sins,  my  Christian  brother.  It  can  cover  them 
all,  dissolve  them  all,  so  completely  that  no 
vestige  of  them  shall  ever  more  be  seen.  It 
can  overreach  all  your  iniquity  ;  it  can  supply 
all  your  necessity.  This  is  the  very  purpose, 
the  very  nature  of  grace.  "  Where  sin  hath 
abounded,  grace  much  more  abounds."  In- 
deed, when  you  come  to  his  mercy-seat  v^dth 
the  spirit  of  penitence  and  with  the  sinner's 
plea,  God  does,  as  it  were,  challenge  you  to 
tell  him  of  your  iniquities  so  great  that  his 
grace  through  Christ  cannot  cancel  them  ; 
challenges  you  to  show  him  your  sins  greater 
than  his  grace.  Not  that  grace  furnishes  rea- 
son for  sin.  God  forbid.  But  sin  furnishes 
reason  for  grace. 

Since  these  things  are  so,  I  ask  you  to  look 
at  the  Word  of  God,  to  look  at  the  grand  out- 
line of  the  economy  of  grace,  and  say  if  it  is 
not  a  sin  to  exclaim,  in  face  of  the  Bible,  in 
opposition  to  the  full  and  generous  principles 
of  God's  grace,  that  we  may  not,  cannot,  dare 
not,  approach  the  throne  of  mercy,  because  of 
the  greatness  of  our  necessity  ortthe  enormity 
of  our  transgressions.  Such  language  results 
from  a  wicked,  ideal  limitation  of  God's  grace ; 
from  a  perversion  of  the  very  principles  upon 


96  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED. 

which  it  proceeds.  Sinfuhiess  and  necessity 
are  the  indispensable  conditions  of  its  bestow- 
ment ;  but  unbelief  says,  that  sinfuhiess  and 
necessity  are  the  reasons  for  its  denial.  By 
this  false  doctrine  many  a  conscience-stricken 
sinner  has  been  impelled  farther  in  sin,  and 
shut  out  from  the  kingdom  of  God.  By  this 
falsehood  Christians  have  shrouded  themselves 
with  distress,  concealed  the  Divine  light  with- 
in them,  groped  in  darkness,  taken  up  with 
wailings  and  tears  when  they  ought  to  have 
abounded  in  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  and  thus 
puzzled  and  bewildered  those  who  have  been 
watching  for  the  correspondence  of  their  lives 
to  the  obvious  principles  of  the  Gospel. 

Perhaps,  my  Christian  brother,  you  are  hard- 
ly aware  how,  when  you  have  proper  views  of 
your  own  sinfulness,  you  misuse  yourself  and 
wrong  others  if  you  suffer  that  sinfulness  to 
eclipse  the  glorious  radiance  of  the  grace  of 
God. 

You  are  often  saying,  that  you  cannot  rely 
upon  Divine  grace  ;  that  you  cannot  impor- 
tune for  God's  aid  and  pardon  ;  that  you  can- 
not step  for\^rd  in  the  path  of  duty  and  re- 
sponsibility, because  your  weakness,  imperfec- 
tion, and  iniquity  are  so  great.  Thus,  perhaps 
you  restrain    prayer,  and   neglect   duty,    and 


DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED.  97 

shrink  from  responsibility,  and  are  tossed  from 
billow  to  billow,  as  the  necessary  consequence 
of  your  unjust  and  absurd  views  of  Divine 
grace.  Just  as  though  that  grace  was  con- 
tracted, — just  as  though  it  was  less  than  your 
weakness,  and  unworthiness,  and  sin  I 

For  your  own  sake,  —  for  the  sake  of  God's 
honor,  —  away  for  ever  with  such  aspersions 
of  his  grace.  Come  to  the  throne  of  grace. 
Come  habitually.  Come  boldly,  trustfully  ; 
not  with  doubting,  and  misgiving,  and*  halting, 
and  fear.  Come  because  you  are  a  sinner,  — 
because  you  are  a  great  sinner.  Come  for 
the  pardon  of  your  iniquity,  because  it  is  so 
great.  Come  for  grace  to  help  you,  because 
you  are  in  need. 

And  then  go  on  in  the  discharge  of  Chris- 
tian duty,  and  in  the  joy  of  Christian  faith  ; 
trusting  in  the  grace  to  which  you  have  ap- 
pealed for  all  your  needed  supplies.  With 
such  trust,  —  with  such  cheering  and  reviving 
views  of  God's  grace,  —  you  may  go  on 
through  temptations,  trials,  conflicts,  duties, 
emergencies,  any  thing  and  every  thing,  until 
that  grace  shall  make  its  most  glorious  dis- 
play in  your  everlasting  triumph  and  joy. 

This  one,  earnest  prayer,  "  Pardon  mine 
iniquity,  O  Lord, /or  it  is  great,"  will  procure 


98  DIVINE    GRACE    AND    MAN's    NEED. 

for  any  one  the  free,  copious  grace  of  God ; 
that  grace  which  shall  guide  him  to  everlasting 
rest  and  emancipate  him  eternally  from  sin 
and  from  sorrow. 

But  woe  unto  him  who  distrusts  that  grace, 
and  counts  it  of  less  extent  than  his  own  trans- 
gressions. 


VII. 

EELIGIOUS  DESPONDENCY. 

True  Christians,  who  have  not  sunk  into 
spiritual  apathy,  often  yield  to  a  despondency 
which  the  Gospel  neither  warrants,  encourages, 
or  produces.  Indeed,  almost  every  one  who 
has  been  renewed  by  the  power  of  God  knows 
more  or  less  of  spiritual  depression,  of  the  deep 
gloom  of  spiritual  darkness.  Every  one  who 
has  watchfully  studied  Christian  experience 
knows,  that  the  disciples  of  Christ  very  often 
forget  his  parting  injunction,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer";  forget  the  apostolic  injunction,  "  Re- 
joice in  the  Lord  always  "  ;  forget  the  encour- 
agements to  the  Christian  life  ;  forget  the 
promises  of  the  Lord  ;  forget  the  largeness,  the 
freeness,  the  occasion  of  Divine  grace  ;  forget 
every  thing  save  obstacles  and  dangers,  ene- 
mies and  corruptions ;  and  thus  give  up  to 
fears,  disquietudes,  and  sorrows.  How  few 
rejoice  in  the  Lord  I  How  few  exult  in  Divine 
Power  and  Grace  !  How  few,  in  distrust  of 
themselves  and  with  trust  in  God,  boldly  defy 
every  spiritual  foe  till  they  have  passed  from 


100  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

conquest  to  conquest,  till  they  have  entered 
upon  eternal  triumph  and  rest !  The  harps  of 
God's  people  are  too  often  upon  the  willows. 
Their  songs  are  too  often  faint,  if  not  silenced. 
Their  spirit  of  praise  and  joy  is  too  often  lan- 
guid, if  not  extinct.  One  day  they  chant  an- 
thems ;  the  next,  are  cast  down  in  the  dust,  and 
abound  in  lamentations. 

Why  ?  "Why  do  not  those  who  hope,  and 
with  good  reason,  that  they  have  been  made 
"joint-heirs  with  Christ,"  rejoice  in  his  Re- 
demption ?  Why  is  it,  that  they  do  not  mag- 
nify the  grace  of  God  ?  Why  is  it,  that  they 
do  not  illustrate  the  worth  of  his  renewing 
grace  by  apprehending  joyfullij  the  truths  of 
the  Gospel  ?  Is  there  any  evil  from  which  he 
will  not  deliver  them  ?  any  danger  from  which 
he  will  not  protect  them  ?  any  real  plague 
from  which  he  will  not  free  them  ?  Is  there 
any  thing,  in  the  whole  range  of  spiritual 
truths  or  spiritual  accidents,  which  they  need 
to  fear  ?  "  The  Lord  God  is  a  sun  and  shield ; 
the  Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory  ;  no  good 
thing  will  he  withhold  from  them  that  walk 
uprightly."  He  will  in  no  wise  cast  out  any 
who  believe  in  Christ.  He  will  impose  no 
burdens  beyond  what  they  can  bear.  "  Like 
as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  101 

pitieth  them  that  fear  him."  He  "  will  redeem 
them  from  all  their  iniquities,"  "  purge  away 
their  sins. for  his  name's  sake,"  and  bring  them 
unto  Mount  "  Zion  with  songs,  and  everlasting 
joy  upon  their  heads  ;  they  shall  obtain  joy 
and  gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall 
flee  away."     Not  one  of  them  shall  perish. 

Why  is  it,  then,  that  the  children  of  God, 
the  heirs  of  immortal  glory,  should  be  carried 
captive  by  the  power  of  fear  ?  Is  the  Gospel 
in  fault?  Is  the  influence  of  evangelical  truth 
the  cause  ?  Does  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  his  in- 
fluences, beget  despondency  ?  No  ;  the  Gos- 
pel is  "  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  "  ;  "  the  fruit 
of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace"  ;  the  author 
of  salvation  is  "  the  God  of  hope,"  —  "  the  God 
of  all  comfort."  He  seeks  to  "  fill "  his  people 
"  with  all  joy  and  peace  in  believing,  that  they 
may  abound  in  hope  through  the  power  of 
the  Holy  Ghost."  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Hoi}'' 
Ghost." 

No  ;  the  fault  is  in  Christians  themselves. 

To  account  for  our  religious  despondency, 
we  are  usually  told  of  our  neglect  of  specific 
Christian  duties  ;  of  our  sluggishness  in  the 
Christian  life  ;  of  our  backwardness  in  further- 
ing the  plans  of  Christian  enterprise  ;  of  our 


102  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

deficiency  in  spiritual  meditation  ;  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  approach  the  throne  of  grace. 
We  are  assured,  and  with  truth  too^  that  un- 
less we  bear  ourselves  with  carefulness  and 
scrupulousness  and  uniformity  in  these  partic- 
ulars, we  shall  inevitably  induce  darkness  and 
sorrow.  These  are  important  truths.  But  I 
pass  them  over  with  a  mere  allusion.  There 
are  other  causes  of  spiritual  gloom  which  I 
wish  particularly  to  designate. 

One  is,  limited  views  of  the  grace  of  God. 

Every  one  who  has  been  renewed  in  Christ 
Jesus  is  conscious  of  his  own  sinfulness.  He 
looks  upon  it  with  abhorrence.  He  turns  his 
eye  upon  his  own  heart,  and  upon  his  own 
past  life,  and  there  he  sees  sin,  —  sin,  —  sin. 
The  more  he  is  taught  by  the  Spirit,  and  the 
nearer  he  approaches  to  perfection,  and  the 
more  he  learns  of  holiness,  so  much  the  more 
does  he  discern  the  evil  of  his  life  and  the  cor- 
ruptions of  his  heart.  The  growth  of  Chris- 
tian character  necessarily  produces  a  growing 
conception  of  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin  ; 
of  its  contrariety  to  God  ;  of  its  opposition  to 
happiness  ;  of  its  contempt  of  threatenings,  of 
entreaties,  of  obligations,  of  Grace.  Such,  I 
say,  is  the  necessary  result  of  the  advance- 
ment of  Christian  character. 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  103 

Now  with  all  this  knowledge  of  sin,  and 
with  the  knowledge  that  we  ourselves  are  sin- 
ners, and  with  the  knowledge  of  what  we  de- 
serve as  sinners,  if  there  is  not  a  correspond- 
ing and  counterbalancing  view  of  the  grace  of 
God  specially  provided  for  us,  then  this  per- 
ception of  our  personal  demerit  becomes  a 
necessary  and  an  active  source  of  disturbing 
apprehension.  So  far  as  it  goes,  here  is  a 
proper  view  of  sin.  Suppose  in  the  same 
mind  there  is  a  contracted  view  of  the  antidote 
to  sin.  Suppose  it  is  forgotten,  that  sin  is  the 
very  occasion  of  grace.  Suppose  it  is  kept  out 
of  mind,  that  operating  grace  could  not  exist 
but  for  sin.  Suppose  it  is  kept  out  of  mind, 
that  as  sin  rises  up  in  defiance  of  God  and  in 
defiance  of  grace,  so  grace  rises  up  the  more 
earnestly  in  its  plenitude  and  glory  to  sur- 
mount and  liquidate  sin.  Suppose,  while  sin 
is  beheld  as  great,  grace  is  considered  as 
small ;  that  while  the  conception  of  sin  is  ex- 
tended, the  view  of  grace  is  limited.  In  such 
a  case,  are  gloom  and  heaviness  of  heart  avoid- 
able ?  While  sin  stands  before  the  mind's  eye 
in  its  true,  naked,  revolting  deformity  ;  while 
we  thus  recognize  it  as  affixed  to  ourselves  ; 
while  memory  recites  the  history  of  our  wrongs 
toward  God ;  must  we  not  tremble,   can   we 


104  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

help  being  affrighted  at  our  own  portrait, 
if  we  forget  that  grace  is  coextensive  with  sin '' 
if  we  forget  that  it  is  the  very  office  of  grace  to 
forgive  and  to  cleanse,  and  that  it  is  the  very 
odiousness  of  sin  which  excites  grace  ?  Here 
is  a  partial  conception  of  Divine  grace  ;  a  mis- 
apprehension of  it ;  a  hiding  of  its  glory  ;  a 
forgetting  of  its  freeness  and  sufficiency ;  a 
wrong  view  of  its  very  nature  and  purpose,  — 
by  all  which  it  seems  other  than  it  is.  Thus, 
when  we  imagine  ourselves  to  be  contemplat- 
ing the  grace  of  God,  we  are  truly  contemplat- 
ing something  else  ;  something  not  adapted  to 
our  necessities.  And  so  we  bear  up  against 
this  overwhelming,  yet  true,  conception  of  sin, 
—  alone,  unsupported.  We  ponder  the  black- 
ness of  our  character,  the  terribleness  of  our 
deserts,  without  a  counterbalancing  view  of 
the  richness,  the  light,  the  consolation,  of  Di- 
vine provisions.  Ascribing  an  unfounded, 
ideal  limitation  to  Divine  grace,  we  grapple 
helplessly  and  hopelessly  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  our  guilt.  Can  we,  thus,  bear  up  joy- 
fully ?  No;  —  we  must  despond,  w^e  must 
sink.  Worldly  pleasures  cannot  relieve  us. 
Worldly  inventions,  —  man's  wisdom,  —  have 
no  fitness  to  our  case  ;  they  have  no  power  to 
raise  us  up,  to  fill  us  with  peace.      Yet,  let  the 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  105 

conception  of  sin  be  extended  ever  so  far  ;  let 
memory  rehearse  our  transgressions  with  exact 
fidelity  ;  let  the  representations  of  the  Bible, 
the  transactions  on  Calvary,  the  approaching 
judgment,  the  terrors  of  eternal  death,  illus- 
trate with  all  their  force  the  exceeding  sinful- 
ness of  sin,  —  if  we  apprehend  the  exceeding 
riches  of  Divine  grace,  —  if  we  canvass  its  na- 
ture, its  purpose,  its  occasion,  its  greatness,  its 
freeness,  —  then  we  shake  off  despondency, 
and  rejoice  with  exceeding  joy.  Our  concep- 
tion of  sin,  our  consciousness  of  its  aggra- 
vating circumstances,  lose  all  their  power  to 
depress. 

The  more  we  understand  and  abhor  sin,  its 
power,  its  curse,  —  the  greater  will  our  exulta- 
tion be,  when  we  see  the  purpose,  the  fulness, 
the  freeness  of  God's  grace.  When,  in  the 
light  of  the  Gospel,  we  behold  that  grace  ready 
to  supply  all  our  necessities,  to  remove  every 
curse,  to  shield  from  every  danger,  to  purge 
from  every  corruption,  to  wash  away  all  guilt, 
—  nothing  can  depress  us,  —  nothing  can  rob 
us  of  joy. 

But  another  cause  of  spiritual  gloom  —  and 
one,  I  think,  but  little  suspected  —  is  a  WTong 
method  of  searching  the  heart ;  or,  rather,  hav- 


106  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

ing  a  \vrong  object  in  view  when  searching  the 
hearts 

Self-examination  is  a  duty.  Its  purpose  is, 
that  we  may  see  "  whether  we  are  in  the 
faith." 

Some  Christians  examine  themselves  by 
looking  at  other  objects,  —  sinful  objects,  for 
example,  —  and  then  noticing  what  are  their 
feelings  towards  them  ;  or  again,  at  holy  ob- 
jects, and  then  noticing  what  are  their  feelings 
towards  them,  —  and  thus  judging  ''whether 
they  are  in  the  faith,"  whether  they  have  the 
affections  required  in  the  Gospel. 

Others  examine  themselves  by  looking  in 
upon  themselves ;  and  that  not  so  much  for 
the  purpose  of  ascertaining  whether  they  pos- 
sess Christian  faith,  as  for  the  purpose  of  find- 
ing what  of  evil  may  be  in  them.  They  do  it 
with  the  distinct  expectation  of  finding  sin 
there,  with  the  distinct  intention  of  detecting 
there  the  forms,  movements,  and  disguise's  of 
sin,  that  so  they  may  guard  against  and  up- 
root it. 

Others,  again,  scrutinize  themselves  not  sim- 
ply for  the  purpose  of  detecting  and  eradicating 
sin,  and  not  simply  for  the  purpose  of  judging 
"whether  they  are  in  the  faith";  but  in  the 
hope  of  finding  something  g^ood  there  in  which 


REJGK^US    DESPONDENCY.  107 

they  may  g-^ny,  —  being  of  a  different  mind 
from  Paul,  who  "  most  gladly  gloried  in  his 
infirmity^  that  the  power  of  Christ  might  rest 
upon  him."  Or  they  look  in  upon  their  hearts 
in  the  hope  of  finding  righteousness  there  in 
which  they  may  rejoice  ;  being  again  of  a  dif- 
ferent mind  from  Paul,  who  sought  to  be 
"  found  in  Christ  not  having  his  own  righteous- 
ness, but the  righteousness  which  is  of 

God  by  faith." 

The  consequence  of  such  examination  of  the 
heart  is  any  thing  but  satisfaction.  Its  direct 
and  necessary  result,  if  we  are  honest  and 
faithful  in  the  work,  is  despondency. 

What  is  there  in  ourselves  ?  Any  thing 
which  should  afford  us  pleasure  ?  Any  thing 
which  should  be  a  matter  of  exultation  ?  Any 
thing  for  which  xve  are  commendable  ?  Any 
thing  of  which  we  may  boast  ?  O,  no  !  noth- 
ing !  If,  then,  we  exclude  other  objects  from 
view  and  fix  our  vision  upon  our  own  hearts, 
we  have  before  us  nothing  but  imperfection, 
—  sin,  —  the  very  thing  we  most  loathe.  Thus 
employed,  —  especially  if  we  are  hoping  to  find 
goodness  within  ourselves,  —  we,  of  course, 
experience  bitter  disappointment ;  for  we  find 
the  very  opposite  of  goodness.  Can  a  cUild 
of  God  rejoice  while  unfolding  his  own  heart? 
8 


108  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

Can  one  who  hates  sin  rejoice  while  discover- 
ing it  in  his  very  self?  How  can  he  rejoice  at 
such  discovery  when  he  has  just  opened  the 
door  of  his  heart  with  the  vain,  foolish,  fond 
hope  of  finding  something  good  there  ?  No  ; 
so  long  as  he  gazes  there  ;  so  long  as  he  ru-? 
mi  nates  upon  what  he  finds  there  ;  so  long  as 
he  revolves  its  particulars,  and  analyzes  its 
properties,  and  observes  its  daily  influences, 
and  shuts  his  eye  against  every  other  view, — 
he  must  be  heavy-hearted,  he  must  be  discour- 
aged ;  he  cannot  but  cry  out  for  bitterness  of 
soul.  It  is  absurd  for  a  sinful  man  to  look  in 
upon  himself  honestly,  and  searchingly,  for 
consolation.  We  have  no  right  to  do  so.  It 
is  not  the  object  for  which  we  are  bidden  to 
examine  ourselves.  Nor  are  we  told  to  look 
upon  ourselves  exclusively  for  any  purpose,  or 
at  any  time.  But  we  are  told  never  to  turn 
our  eyes  away  from  Christ.  And  when  we, 
so  intently  and  exclusively,  and  with  a  pur- 
pose so  absurd,  gaze  upon  our  own  hearts,  we 
do  turn  our  eyes  from  Christ.  And  we  thus 
disobey  the  Gospel.  What  wonder,  that  in 
the  very  act  of  disobedience  we  are  given  over 
to  despondency  ?  It  is  our  duty  to  look  to 
Christ ;  to  drink  in  the  delightful  displays  of 
his  loveliness  and  sufficiency.     When  we  do 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  109 

otherwise,  our  spirits  must  faint,  our  hearts 
must  ache.  We  are  out  of  the  way  of  duty. 
We  are  away  from  the  fountain  of  consolation, 
and  joy,  and  life.  We  avert  our  eyes  and 
exclude  the  brightness  of  Divine  glory  as  it 
shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  are 
drinking  at  the  very  fountain  of  bitterness  and 
sorrow. 

What  is  it  which  sometimes  pours  such  a 
flood  of  light  and  joy  upon  the  soul  of  one 
just  "  turned  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto 
God"?  The  contemplation  of  himself  ?  No; 
it -is  the  apprehension  of  his  Saviour.  And 
what  is  it  which  always  gives  the  Christian 
his  seasons  of  joy  ?  In  what  is  his  chief  de- 
light ?  It  is  in  fixing  his  eye  upon  the  excel- 
lence, the  loveliness,  the  sufficiency,  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  his  Lord ;  not  in  riveting  his  eye 
upon  the  realities  of  his  own  heart,  and  tracing 
out  the  repulsive  features  of  his  own  charac 
ter.  Self  can  afford  no  satisfaction  to  the 
Christian.  The  contemplation  of  self  can 
never  fill  him  with  joy.  There  will  be  no  hap- 
piness from  such  a  source,  even  when  we  are 
perfected.  David  said,  "  I  shall  be  satisfied 
when  I  awake  "  —  satisfied  with  what  ?  — 
"  with  thy  likeness."  Think  you  that  glorified 
saints  are  vain  of  their  robes?     Do  they  look 


110  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

into  the  pure  fountains  of  heaven  with  pleas- 
ure merely  because  they  see  reflected  their 
own  symmetry  and  glory  ?  What !  when  all 
their  perfectness  is  the  work  of  Christ !  when 
their  apparel  is  all  borrowed  from  the  "vestry 
of  Divine  grace  !  Pure  as  they  are,  is  self 
their  chief  delight  ?  their  great  source  of  hap- 
piness ?  their  great  object  of  contemplation  ? 
Precious  as  their  purity  is  to  themselves,  their 
happiness  is  in  Christ.  They  are  happy  not 
only  in  the  exercise  of  gratitude  to  him  for 
what  they  are,  but  chiefly  in  the  unwearying 
employment  of  getting  larger  and  still  larger 
views  of  his  glory.  The  throne  of  the  Lamb, 
—  the  glory  that  is  thereon,  —  is  the  grand 
focus  of  their  thought  and  their  affection.  Ev- 
ery mouth  is  sounding  forth  his  praise.  Ev- 
ery eye  is  dwelling  upon  his  glory.  Every 
heart  is  panting  for  his  smile.  Every  foot  is 
pressing  with  rapturous  devotion  to  be  near 
to  him.  There,  happiness  is  in  perfection ; 
despondency  is  unknown.  Why  ?  Because 
there  all  are  engaged  in  contemplating  Him 
who  has  "  redeemed  them  to  God  by  his 
blood,"  and  w^ashed  them  therein.  Because 
there  Christ  is  the  absorbing  object  of  thought, 
of  love,  of  praise. 

And  shall  we,  —  corrupt,  imperfect  men, — 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  Hj 

SO  far  beneath  the  saints  in  pureness  ;  we,  in 
whom  God's  work  —  if  begun  at  all  —  is  but 
just  begun  ;  shall  w^e  be  gazing  upon  our- 
selves and  turning  our  eyes  from  Christ  ? 
What  have  we  to  do  with  ourselves  as  means 
of  comfort?  or  as  sources  of  satisfaction  ?  We 
have  to  deal  with  ourselves  only  in  the  way  of 
culture.  For  our  model,  our  glory,  our  joy,  we 
must  look  to  Christ.  If  we  would  be  free 
from  despondency,  we  must  let  ourselves  alone, 
except  as  we  strive  cheerfully,  and  patiently, 
to  bring  ourselves,  by  Divine  aid,  into  a  sweet 
similitude  to  Jesus.  And  this  is  to  be  done 
only  by  beholding  him.  "  We  shall  be  like 
him  when  we  see  him  as  he  is."  Every  re- 
viving spiritual  impulse  must  be  given  to  us  by 
some  fresh  emanation  from  him.  Such  im- 
pulse cannot  come  from  self;  from  the  energy 
or  the  contemplation  of  self.  It  must  be  given 
by  imbibing  his  radiance  and  contemplating 
his  glory ;  just  as  the  tender  shrub  receives 
reviving  impulse  from  the  light  of  the  re- 
turning sun.  Sin  will  annoy  us,  because  it 
will  reside  in  us,  so  long  as  we  abide  here. 
But  if  we  look  to  Christ,  trust  him,  feed  upoti 
him  as  "  the  bread  of  life,"  then  sin,  with  all 
its  accursing  power,  will  prove  only  like  the 
chrysalis's  web  which  the  sunlight  penetrates. 


112  RELIGIOUS    DESPOx^DENCY. 

It  will  soon  burst.  It  will  soon  be  cast  off 
Our  souls  will  then  rise  to  heaven  in  full  glory 
not  for  the  display  of  themselves  to  themselves  ; 
not  for  the  display  of  themselves  to  others  ; 
but  to  be  humble  witnesses  to  Redeeming 
Love,  to  chant  for  ever  their  Redeemer's 
praise,  to  dwell  for  ever  upon  their  Redeemer's 
excellence. 

Where  is  the  source  of  true  happiness  ?  In 
the  creature  ?  or  in  the  Creator  ?  In  a  foun- 
tain of  uncleanness  ?  or  in  the  fountain  of  Di- 
vine excellence  ?  Here,  —  in  my  heart,  for  me  ? 
in  your  heart,  for  you  ?  or  there,  —  in  heaven  ? 
in  the  perceptible  glory  of  God  in  Christ  ? 
O !  it  is  surely  —  there  ;  for  you,  for  me,  for 
saints,  for  angels,  for  all.  God,  as  revealed  in 
the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  —  he  is  the  source 
of  all  happiness;  of  all  strength  ;  of  all  excel- 
lence. When,  therefore,  you  or  I  or  any  other 
one  turns  his  eye  upon  self,  excluding  heaven- 
ly objects,  each  will  be  constrained  to  exclaim, 
"  O,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ! "  To 
this  we  must  necessarily  be  driven,  because 
we  fix  our  gaze,  upon  that  which  is  odious, 
and  in  the  same  act  turn  away  from  the  only 
object  which  can  revive  and  rejoice  us.  We 
look  upon  ourselves,  we  look  away  from  Christ. 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  113 

Where,  then,  is  the  cause  of  Christian  de- 
spondency ?  Is  it  the  legitimate  influence  of 
the  Gospel  ?  Is  it  a  necessary  consequence 
of  being  a  Christian  ?  Is  it  a  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  ?  Is  it  a  part  of  Christian  life  ?  Is  it 
an  essential  peculiarity  of  a  Christian  ?  As 
well  might  we  suppose  it  to  be  an  essential 
peculiarity  of  heaven.  No.  The  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  and  the  influences  of  the  Spirit,  pro- 
duce brokenness  of  heart,  hatred  of  sin,  and  an 
understanding  of  self.  Bat  when  the  Gospel 
tells  of  sin,  it  points  also  to  grace  ;  when  it 
speaks  of  condemnation,  it  also  proclaims, — 
"  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners." And  when  the  Holy  Spirit  unveils  the 
sinfulness  of  sin  and  the  sinfuhiess  of  one's 
self,  —  without  exception,  —  he  seeks  to  direct 
us,  at  the  same  time,  to  the  glory,  excellence, 
and  preciousness  of  Christ ;  so  that,  by  looking 
thereon,  we  may  be  more  and  more  like  him. 
Even  "  the  Law  is  our  schoolmaster  to  bring 
us  to  Christ.^^  And  if  we  do  not  heed  the 
Spirit  of  God ;  if,  luhile  conscious  of  sinful- 
ness, we  do  not  also  behold  and  trust  in 
Christ,  and*are  thus  cast  down,  —  where  is  the 
fault  ?  In  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  In  the  Gospel  ? 
In  the  nature  of  piety  ?  No  ;  but  in  our  own 
error  of  vision  ;  in  our  misdirected  vision.    We  * 


114  RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY. 

can  only  be  happy,  peaceful,  when  we  believe , 
only  when  we  behold  sin  and  grace;  only 
when  we  look  upon  self  and  Christ ;  only 
w^hen  we  can  commit  sin  to  grace,  and  self  to 
Christ.  Sin  without  gi'ace  is  fearful  ;  but 
even  in  view  of  sin  we  can  rejoice,  if  we  be- 
hold the  exceeding  riches  and  the  sole  purpose 
of  grace.  So  self  without  Christ  is  a  fearful 
object  of  contemplation  ;  but  self  in  Christ, 
and  Christ  in  self,  and  self  lost  in  Christ,  — 
this  is  a  view  in  which  we  may  exult.  And 
this  is  the  view  which  the  Gospel  (glad  tidings) 
presents. 

Learn,  then.  Christian  brother,  how  to  re- 
joice. Learn  how  to  glorify  God  in  your  joy. 
And,  O  !  cease  to  bring  suspicion  upon  the 
Gospel ;  cease  to  teach  men  to  look  upon  vital 
piety  with  dread.  Cease,  —  by  allowing  piety 
to  have  its  natural  growth  and  to  perform  its 
legitimate  work.  Cease,  —  by  allowing  to  the 
Gospel  its  proper,  uninterrupted  influence  upon 
you  ;  by  allowing  the  Spirit  of  God,  —  the 
Spirit  of  grace,  —  the  Spirit  of  consolation, — • 
to  lead,  to  guide,  to  influence  you,  just  as  He 
would  do. 

"  So  shall  your  walk  be  close  with  God, 
Calm  and  serene  your  frame ; 
ffn  And  clearer  light  shall  mark  the  road 

That  leads  you  to  the  Lamb." 


RELIGIOUS    DESPONDENCY.  115 

Learn  how  to  rejoice.  Learn  to  contem- 
plate Divine  grace  just  as  it  is  set  forth  in  the 
Gospel ;  to  contemplate  Christ  just  as  he  is 
set  forth  there.  Though  your  faith  be  but  an 
infant  faith,  yet  why  be  heavy-hearted  when 
there  is  so  much  to  make  you  happy  in  "  the 
unsearchable  riches  of  Christ"?  "Though 
your  sins  be  as  scarlet,"  and  rise  toward 
heaven  like  mountains,  yet,  O !  why  be  heavy- 
hearted  when  there  is  grace,  full  grace,  free 
grace,  willing  grace,  grace  enough,  with  God, 
to  cover  them  all  up,  to  blot  them  all  out? 
"Why  art  thou  cast  down,"  Obeliever!  and 
why  is  your  "  soul  disquieted  "  within  you  ? 
"  Hope  thou  in  God,^^  and  you  shall  then 
"  praise  him  for  the  help  of  his  countenance." 


VIIL 

THE  EXCELLENCE   OF   THE    KNOWLEDGE   OF 
CHRIST. 

The  true  knowledge  of  Christ  is  an  excel- 
lent knowledge.  The  Apostle  Paul,  who  had 
received  "abundance  of  revelations,"  and  whose 
judgment  in  this  matter  was  formed  under  the 
special  tuition  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  declares  it 
to  be  the  most  excellent  knowledge.  He  says, 
"  Yea,  doubtless,  I  count  all  things  loss  for  th:e 
excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus 
my  Lord."  When  he  wrote  these  words,  he 
would  rather  have  known  Christ,  than  to  have 
been  rich,  or  honored,  or  learned,  or  beloved, 
or  "  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews  "  ;  rather  than 
to  have  had  any  thing  or  to  have  been  any 
thing  which  men  naturally  esteem.  Like 
Mary,  he  would  rather  sit  at  Jesus's  feet,  and 
look  up  at  Jesus's  face,  and  learn  of  Him  who 
is  meek  and  lowly  of  heart,  —  he  would  rather 
have  had  "  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Chris t,^^  — 
than  to  have  ha^  any  other  teacher,  or  any 
other  object  of  admiration,  or  the  light  of  any 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  117 

other  glory  in  the  universe.  "  Yea,  doubtless," 
noiv  he  would  say,  "  I  count  all  things  loss  for 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus 
my  Lord."  "  Yea,  doubtless,"  even  the  splen- 
dors of  the  golden  city  are  nothing  to  him  ; 
and  the  glories  of  archangels,  nothing ;  and 
the  discourse  of  archangels,  nothing  ;  and  the 
fellowship  and  melody  of  his  fellow-martyrs, 
nothing  ;  and  his  own  crown  of  glory,  nothing ; 
and  thrones,  and  dominions,  and  principalities, 
and  powers,  nothing,  —  except  as  "  Christ  is 
all  and  in  all."  Upon  every  face  and  diadem ; 
upon  every  pearl  and  precious  stone ;  upon 
every  mansion,  and  arbor,  and  fountain  in 
the  New  Jerusalem,  —  there  is  some  testimony 
of  Jesus.  All  things  there  are  bright  and 
beautiful  only  because  "  the  glory  of  God  doth 
lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 
And  thus  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is  the 
charm  of  heaven  ;  the  key  to  its  beauties  ;  the 
secret  of  its  holiness,  of  its  harmony,  of  its  fel- 
lowship, of  its  happiness. 

The  knowledge  of  Christ  includes,  evident- 
ly, a  correct  idea  of  him. 

We  must  have  a  correct  idea  of  his  conduct. 
We  must  understand  to  what  trials  and  temp- 
tations he  was  subjected.     We  must  under- 


118  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

stand  the  truth  that  he  went  through  all  with- 
out one  evil  feeling,  or  impure  thought,  or 
word,  or  act,  toward  God  or  toward  man.  We 
must  understand  also  that  he  maintained 
through  all  every  right  feeling,  and  all  rig-Itt 
behavior,  in  word  and  deed,  toward  God  and 
man,  from  the  manger  to  the  cross;  and  this, 
too,  while  possessed  of  all  the  susceptibilities 
and  properties  of  a  human  soul.  In  short,  we 
must  have  a  familiar  understanding  both  of 
his  temper  and  his  life  as  a  man ;  of  their 
wonderful  and  spotless  beauty. 

Again,  we  must  have  a  correct  idea  of  him 
as  "  both  Lord  and  Christ"  ;  as  "  Lord  both  of 
the  dead  and  living."  We  must  understand 
that,  "  all  things  being  delivered  unto  him  of 
the  Father,"  '^  3.\\  poiver  being  given  unto  him 
in  heaven  and  in  earth,"  he  holds  the  reins 
of  universal  government ;  that  the  impulses  of 
his  hand  are  concerned  in  every  movement 
and  in  every  breath  of  the  whole  creation,  in 
every  event  of  universal  providence,  in  heaven 
and  earth  and  air  and  sea.  We  must  recog- 
nize his  right  to  homage  and  faith  and  obedi- 
ence, as  King  and  Governor  of  all  things. 

And  yet  more ;  we  must  have  a  correct  idea 
of  his  Love.  It  is  a  Love  beyond  every  other 
Love.      It  bore  him  on  through  persecution 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  119 

and  poverty  and  the  hidings  of  the  Father's 
face  and  the  chastisement  of  the  Father's  rod, 
through  the  mysterious  sufferings  of  his  soul 
upon  the  cross  where  he  was  hung  and  smit- 
ten and  bruised  as  the  sacrifice  for  sin.  It  is  a 
Love  which  has  yearned  over  us  since  the 
hour  when  he  cried,  "  It  is  finished  "  ;  through 
all  our  ingratitude,  contempt,  guilt,  foolhardi- 
ness,  idolatry.  It  is  a  Love  which  has  bovg-ht 
us  ;  —  "  with  a  price  "  ;  —  with  the  price  of 
blood;  with  the  price  of  more  than  blood.  It 
is  a  Love  which  has  bought  for  us,  and  offers 
to  us,  —  heaven.  It  is  a  Love  which  has 
bought  for  us,  and  gives  to  us,  our  day  of 
grace  and  our  means  of  grace.  It  is  a  Love 
which  has  given  us  food,  and  raiment,  and 
health,  and  homes,  and  domestic  enjoyments, 
and  each  particular  blessing  which  has  ever 
gladdened  our  hearts  and  cheered  the  path 
of  our  pilgrimage.  It  is  the  Love  of  a  Shep- 
herd, and  Bishop,  and  Friend ;  ever  ready 
to  help  us,  to  strengthen  us,  to  guide  us,  to 
protect  us,  to  comfort  us.  It  is  a  Love  ready 
to  befriend  us  against  sin  ;  against  the  Law ; 
against  temptation ;  against  the  adversary  j 
aye,  ready  and  able  and  longing-  to  do  it.  It 
is  a  Love  ever  reaching  after  us,  —  yes,  after 
all  of  us,  —  that  it  may  bear  our  burdens,  and 


120  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

cany  our  sorrows,  and  dry  our  tears,  and  bind 
up  our  wounds,  be  our  troubles  what  they 
may,  —  spiritual  or  worldly,  —  great  or  trivial ; 
a  Love  for  all  who  are  careworn  and  way- 
worn ;  for  all,  yea  a//,  who  "  labor  and  are 
heavy-laden."  It  is  a  Love,  —  O  for  a  tongue 
that  could  tell  it  I  O  for  a  hand  that  could 
depict  it!  My  brother!  my  fellow-sinner! 
beloved  of  Him  who  bled  upon  the  cross  I  I 
am  los4;,  —  losty —  here  !  It  is  a  tide  which 
rises,  —  and  rises,  —  and  never  ebbs.  It  is  a 
sea,  —  "without  a  bottom  or  a  shore."  No 
line  cayi  fathom  it.  No  eye  ca7i  measure  it. 
No  supplications  can  tire  it.  No  drafts  of  the 
needy  on  earth  or  in  heaven,  for  time  or  for 
eternity,  can  exhaust  it.  It  is  matchless-; 
munificent;  unsought;  unmerited;  unlimited 
Love.  It  passeth  knowledge.  It  passeth 
knowledge. 

Now,  to  know  Christy  we  must  know  his 
Love.  We  must  understand  its  sacrifices ;  its 
condescension;  its  grace;  its  fulness;  its  sym- 
pathy ;  its  sufficiency ;  its  perfect  fitness  to 
all  our  wants. 

Yet  this  is  not  all  that  is  included  in  the 
knowledge  of  Christ.  It  is  not  merely  a  cor- 
rect idea  of  his  conduct  as  a  man ;  of  his  su- 
premacy as  Lord ;  of  his  love  as  Saviour  and 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  121 

Shepherd,  and  Friend.  It  is  something  more. 
It  is  a  knowledge  of  him  which  exists  in  the 
heart  as  well  as  in  the  head.  It  is  a  knowl- 
edge which  comes  from  feeling'  what  he  is,  as 
well  as  from  perceiving  it. 

When  we  can  sit  down,  with  the  Gospels 
before  us,  and  trace  out  all  the  particulars  of 
his  weary  life,  —  his  humility,  his  gentleness, 
his  meekness,  his  filial  devotedness  to  the 
Father's  glory,  his  filial  resignation  to  the 
Father's  will;  when  we  think  of  his  lovely  de- 
portment toward  the  widow  and  the  childless ; 
when  we  think  of  him  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus, 
among  the  faint  and  hungry,  among  the  liers- 
in-wait  for  his  blood,  in  the  wilderness,  in  the 
garden,  in  the  hall  of  jadgment,  on  the  cross; 
when  we  so  look  at  these  things  that  "  our 
hearts  burn  within  us  "  toward  his  spotless  holi- 
ness ;  we  have  a  clearer  conception,  a  different 
and  a  better  knowledge  of  him  than  when  Wje 
read  or  think  of  his  life  ivithout  emotion. 

And  when  we  so  think  of  his  exaltation  to 
the  throne  of  the  Father,  that  we  feel  that 
his  hand  is  in  every  event,  that  his  authority 
is  prefixed  to  every  commandment,  and  that 
his  power  controls  a  wicked  world,  we  have 
a  clearer  perception,  a  far  different  and  a 
better  knowledge  of  him,  than  when  we  think 


122  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

of  his   supremacy,  but   do    not  apply  it   and 
feel  it. 

So  also  is  the  knowledge  of  his  Love.  The 
sinner  who  looks  at  his  cross,  convinced  of 
his  own  ruin  and  helplessness ;  who  looks  and 
feels  the  preciousness  of  that  atonement;  who 
looks  and  luelcomes  it ;  who  looks  and  melts 
beneath  it;  who  looks  and  casts  himself  upon 
it,  —  knows  something  more  about  a  Saviour's 
love  than  is  seen  with  the  eye  of  the  mind. 
So  does  he  also,  when  his  heart  recognizes  and 
feels  a  Saviour^s  love  in  his  daily  mercies  and 
afflictions.  So  also,  when  he  feels  the  Sav- 
iour's sufficiency  and  watchfulness  and  tender- 
ness as  his  Shepherd ;  and  his  fidelity  as  his 
Bishop ;  and  his  sympathy  and  support  and 
peace-giving  influence  as  a  Friend  in  the  fel- 
lowship of  the  closet. 

Yes,  wheresoever  and  in  whomsoever  the 
character  and  government  and  love  of  Christ 
have  touched  the  heart,  there  is  a  knowledge 
to  which  a  mere  reader  or  hearer  of  the  Truth 
could  not  attain  for  ever.  Without  this,  had 
we  the  intellectual  eye  of  a  seraph  and  a 
place  under  the  clear  sunlight  of  the  third 
heaven  and  the  lessons  of  "  ten  thousand  in- 
structors in  Christ"  through  successive  ages, 
'  we  should  not  know  so  much  of  him  as  the 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  123 

spiritual  babe  knows  whose  heart  is  just  open- 
ed to  feel  the  mystery  of  the  cross.  Our 
knowledge  —  ever  so  correct  intellectually  — 
would  be  essentially  void  both  of  Life  and  of 
Truth. 

But  I  have  said,  in  concurrence  w^th  St. 
Paul,  that  this  knowledge  of  Christ  is  of  un- 
equalled excellence  or  value. 

A  tree  is  known  by  its  fruits.  If  the  fruit 
be  excellent,  then  is  the  tree  excellent.  If  its 
fruit  be  most  precious,  so  also  is  the  tree. 
What,  then,  are  the  fruits  of  this  knowledge 
of  Christ?  What  effects  does  it  produce  ?  Are 
they  valuable?  Are  they  above  value?  So, 
then,  is  the  knowledge  whence  they  grow. 

Observe  the  influence  of  this  knovvdedge 
upon  the  several  parts  of  Christian  character. 

Here  is  a  man  who  lives  daily  in  view  of 
Christ.  His  Saviour  is  the  chief  object  of  his 
contemplation.  He  loves,  in  the  morning,  to 
betake  himself  to  the  study  of  Clnist.  He 
loves  to  do  it  through  the  business  of  the  day. 
He  loves  to  do  it  at  evening,  and  in  the  watches 
of  the  night;  in  the  house;  by  the  way;  at 
home ;  abroad.  He  is  daily  discovering  some 
new  beauty  in  his  Saviour's  character ;  some 
new  feature  of  his  Love,  or  his  power,  or  his 
providence,  or  his  practical    holiness.     Christ 

9 


124  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  ' 

is  the  companion  of  his  thoughts,  the  friend  ol 
his  bosom,  the  confidant  of  his  doubts  and 
fears  and  joys  and  troubles.  He  is  seeking  and 
finding  some  new  interpretation  of  Christ  in  all 
the  history  and  in  all  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible, 
—  in  the  scenes  of  Calvary,  —  in  the  terrors  of 
Sinai,  —  in  the  works  of  nature,  —  in  the  events 
of  providence.  In  other  words,  he  is  living 
under  the  light  of  his  Saviour's  countenance, 
under  the  influence  of  his  Saviour's  example, 
under  the  sound  of  his  Saviour's  voice,  under 
the  sweet  influences  of  his  Saviour's  fellowship. 
Thus  he  has  that  knowledge  of  Christ  which 
comes  i'iom.  intimacy^  —  from  affectionate  inti- 
m.acy  ;  and  in  this  knowledge  he  grows. 

What  is  the  result?  The  result!  Why! 
man  and  man  do  not  more  surely  assimilate 
under  the  influence  of  daily  and  friendly  and 
long-continued  intercourse,  than  do  man  and 
Christ.  The  spirit  and  the  habits  of  an  affec- 
tionate child  are  not  more  surely  moulded 
after  the  pattern  of  its  mother,  by  whose  side 
it  lives  and  upon  whose  bosom  it  is  wont  to 
rest  and  whose  virtues  and  discretion  it  is 
wont  to  inspect  and  admire,  —  than  the  spirit 
and  habits  of  such  a  Christian  are  moulded 
after  the  pattern  of  his  Lord  and  Friend.  He 
is  familiar  with  the  meekness  of  Christ,  and 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  125 

has  an  eye  to  appreciate  its  beauty  ;  and  it 
begets  meekness  in  himself.  He  perceives 
distinctly  the  gentleness  of  Christ,  and  has  a 
heart  to  feel  its  excellence  ;  and  it  begets  gen- 
tleness of  spirit,  of  conversation,  of  conduct. 
He  studies  the  tender  kindness  of  Christ  to- 
ward the  poor,  and  the  sick,  and  the  widow, 
and  the  mourner,  and  has  a  heart  to  feel  its 
loveliness ;  and  it  opens  his  heart,  and  his 
hand,  and  his  words  of  comfort,  to  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  sorrow.  He  discovers  more 
and  more  of  his  Saviour's  love  as  it  is  betoken- 
ed in  his  suffering  of  death,  —  in  the  works  of 
his  hand,  —  in  the  bounties  of  his  providence, 
—  in  his  promises,  —  in  his  consolations,  —  in 
his  sympathy,  —  in  his  fellowship;  and  his 
heart  is  impelled  to  new  and  stronger  emotions 
of  Faith.  He  lifts  up  his  eye  and  reads  the 
proofs  of  Christ's  sufficiency  as  High-Priest, 
and  as  Bishop,  and  as  Advocate,  and  as  Shep- 
herd; he  lifts  up  his  eye  and  beholds  the  Su- 
premacy of  Christ,  "  far  above  all  principality 
and  power  and  might  and  dominion  and  every 
name  that  is  named";  and  again  his  heart  is 
impelled  to  Faith,  —  yes,  and  to  Hope,  and  to 
Courage,  and  to  Patience,  and  to  Love,  and  to 
Obedience. 

In  like  manner  the  knowledge  of  Christ  op- 


126  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

erates  to  the  culture  of  every  branch  of  Chris- 
tian virtue ;  toward  man  and  God ;  toward 
holiness  and  sin  ;  toward  the  good  and  the 
wicked;  —  of  thought,  of  feeling,  of  devotion, 
of  word,  of  business,  of  charity. 

But  enough  of  illustration.  Hear  one  word 
of  testimony.  "  His  divine  power,"  says  an 
inspired  Christian,  "  hath  given  unto  us  all 
things  that  pertain  unto  life  and  godliness.''^ 
How  ?  By  what  means  ?  "  Through  the 
knoivledge  of  him  that  hath  called  us  to  glory 
and  virtue."  And  again,  "  We  all,  with  open 
face,  beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the 
Lordy  are  changed  into  the  same  image  from 
glory  to  glory." 

And  thus,  by  the  knowledge  of  Christy  the 
Christian  grows  ;  grows  in  his  Master's  like- 
ness ;  grows  in  his  Master's  glory  and  beauty ; 
grows  in  every  grace  ;  grows  in  the  form  and 
symmetry  and  poiuer  of  godliness.  It  is  so  in 
heaven,  my  brother.  It  is  to  be  so  when 
Christ  shall  appear  in  his  glory.  "  We  shall 
be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is,^^ 
And  if  it  be  so  in  heaven,  must  it  not  be  so  on 
earth?  If  his  saints  are  wrought  more  and 
more  into  his  likeness  by  the  knowledge  of 
him  there,  will  they  not  be  wrought  into  his 
likeness  by  means  of  the  knowledge  of  him 
here  ? 


THE    KJVOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  127 

But,  O  brother  I  if  what  I  say,  and  if  what 
the  Scripture  says,  upon  this  point,  fail  to 
waken  within  you.  a  lively  conviction  of  its 
truth,  go  to  some  disciple  who  has  been  taught 
by  long  experience  ;  to  some  one  who  is  versed 
in  the  mystery  of  godliness  ;  to  some  one  who 
bears  about  the  tokens  of  a  rich  and  fruitful 
piety ;  and  ask  him  where  his  heart  has  burned 
most  with  Faith  and  Love  and  Hope  and  every 
other  Christian  affection.  Ask  him  where  the 
evil  inclinations  of  his  heart  have  been  most 
subdued.  Ask  him  where  he  has  been  most 
impelled  to  holiness  of  outward  life.  Hb  will 
say,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross;  in  the  closet; 
where  he  has  seen  the  most  of  Christ ;  where 
he  has  heard  the  most  of  him  ;  where  he  has 
felt  the  most  of  him  ;  where  he  has  grown  the 
most  in  the  knowledge  of  him.  Yes  ;  and  he 
would  say  too,  "  Live  thou  also  under  the  light 
of  his  glory ;  grow  thou  in  the  knowledge  of 
Christ,  if  thou  wouldst  grow  in  grace." 

But  there  is  another  result  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ.  While  it  pushes  the  Christian 
graces,  of  heart  and  life,  toward  perfection,  it 
has  set  in  motion  graces  which,  in  their  turn, 
bear  fruit  also.  "  If  these  things  be  in  you  and 
abound,  they  make  you  that  ye  shall  be  neither 


128  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

barren  nor  unfruitful  in  the  knowledge  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Set  Christian  affections  to  work,  and  you 
have  set  the  Christian  to  work.  If  he  has 
slept  before,  he  sleeps  no  longer.  If  he  has 
been  a  loiterer  and  an  eyesore  in  the  vineyard 
of  his  Lord,  he  is  so  no  longer.  No  Christian 
can  keep  alive  a  heartfelt  knowledge  of  Christ, 
no  Christian  can  be  sensible  of  the  excellence 
and  glory  of  Christ,  without  imbibing  the 
spirit  and  the  habits  of  his  Master.  "  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us."  It  impels  us. 
Wheh  we  perceive  what  he  is,  and  feel  it ; 
when  thus  we  are  infused  with  the  life  of 
piety  ;  we  talv:e  up  forthwith  the  business  of 
piety.  We  go  about  doing  good.  We  em- 
ploy our  talents  in  the  service  of  our  Lord. 
They  are  no  longer  in  a  napkin,  —  out  of  sight, 

—  out  of  use.  We  are  on  our  feet.  We  are 
at  our  posts.  We  cannot  help  it.  The  knowl- 
edge of  Christ  constrains  us, — impels  us, — 
"  bears  us  away  like  a  strong  and  resistless 
torrent."*     We  are  bringing  something  to  pass, 

—  in  the  family,  —  in  the  church,  —  in  the 
street;  something  for  Christ;  something  for 
him  who   loved   us  ;  something  for  him  who 

*  Doddridge's  Expositor,  on  2  Cor.  v.  14,  and  on  Phil.  i.  23, 
note. 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  129 

hath  called  us,  and  baptized  us,  and  com- 
muned with  us,  and  comforted  us.  We  are 
doing  it  by  prayer,  interceding  for  our  house- 
holds. We  are  doing  it  by  instruction,  teach- 
ing our  households.  We  are  doing  it  in  our 
intercourse  with  our  brethren  ;  by  exhortation  ; 
by  counsel ;  by  sympathy  ;  by  encouragement; 
by  prayer. 

O,  who  can  be  a  neuter,  —  a  drone,  —  a 
grovelling  gatherer  of  the  muck  and  straw  and 
tinsel  of  this  world,  —  or  a  puling  craver  for 
the  mere  nosegays  or  philosophy  of  religion, — 
when  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is  lively  within 
him  ;  when  Christ  dwelleth  in  his  heart ; 
w^hen  Christ  is  formed  in  him  the  hope  of 
glory  ? 

But  the  enlivening  of  Christian  graces  by 
the  knowledge  of  Christ  brings  yet  another  re- 
sult. Not  only  does  the  tree  produce  fruit,  but 
the  fruit  produces  seed,  and  the  seed  produces 
fruit  again.  The  knowledge  of  Christ  rouses 
piety;  and  piety  impels  to  consistency;  and 
consistency  goes  abroad,  wath  her  robes  of 
modesty  and  her  voice  of  eloquence,  like  an 
angel,  among  the  scoffers  and  the  hard-hearted. 
Yes,  like  an  angel,  she  can  win  her  way  to 
many  a  haunt  of  vice,  to  many  a  hovel  of 
jealous  and  ignorant  poverty,  where  a  Phari- 


130  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

see,  with  his  phylacteries  and  his  tithes  and 
hisiong  prayers  and  his  widow's  spoils,  would 
not  go  if  he  could,  and  could  not  go  if  he 
dared.  Yes,  like  an  angel,  site  can  win  her 
way  to  ears  that  are  deaf  as  adders'  to  others  ; 
she^  by  the  blessing  of  God,  can  still  tongues 
which  spit  derision  like  serpents  at  others ; 
and  charm  them,  too  ;  and  teach  them  to  extol 
religion.  Slie.,  by  God's  blessing,  can  speak 
of  Christ's  love,  and  touch  the  heart  of  the 
stupid  and  worldly-minded,  when  a  halting, 
fitful,  inconsistent  disciple  will  leave  no  bless- 
ms,  behind  him  in  the  day  of  his  death:  but 
his  "  remembrance  shall  perish,"  and  his  "  name 
shall  rot." 

O  for  a  piety  which  shall  disperse  itself! 
O  for  a  piety,  —  a  noiseless,  gentle,  unpre- 
tending piety,  —  which  men  may  recognize  as 
my  gift  from  heaven  ;  which  shall  leave  the 
softening  impress  of  its  influence  upon  other 
hearts,  and  be  whispered  by  other  tongues 
when  this  heart  and  this  tongue  .are  awaiting 
the  resurrection  I  O,  then,  for  the  knowledge 
of  my  Redeemer!  O  for  a  clear  and  growing 
and  impelling  discovery  of  the  glory  of  Him 
who  died  upon  the  cross ! 

But,  brother  beloved,  follow  me  a  step  far- 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  131 

ther,  for  my  heart  is  in  this  matter.  Look  at 
the  indaence  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  upon 
the  Christian's  happiness. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  peace  of  mind. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  sweet  peace,  — "  per- 
fect peace."  Yes,  —  here  in  this  vale  of  tears, 
—  here,  amid  all  the  distractions  and  changes 
and  responsibilities  of  a  wicked  world.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  a  mind  "  quiet  from  the  fear 
of  evil."  There  is  such  a  thins:  as  evins:  the 
rising  cloud  of  a  temporal  adliction,  as  looking 
upon  the  cup  of  bitterness  which  Providence 
is  mingling,  and  yet  saying  with  a  peaceful, 
blissful  spirit,  "  Thy  will  be  done  I  "  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  baring  ourselves  to  the  rod 
without  a  fear  of  one  stripe  more  than  is  need- 
ful, or  of  one  stroke  which  shall  cut  too  deep. 
Nay,  more.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  sweet 
and  perfect  peace,  even  under  the  testimony  of 
the  Law.  We  can  be  conscious  of  our  past 
sins  ;  we  can  perceive  much  of  their  enormity ; 
we  can  be  conscious  of  present  imperfection  ; 
we  can  be  vividly  aware  of  the  terrors  of  the 
second  death,  and  of  our  own  personal  inabili- 
ty to  escape  it ;  we  can  lie  down  to  die,  and 
bid  adieu  to  husband,  wife,  children,  to  all  that 
are  bound  to  our  hearts  here  ;  we  can  step 
down  into  the  river  which  alone  separates  us 


132  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

from  the  solemnities  and  decisions  of  eternity 
and  yet  be  at  peace.* 

And  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  comfort- 
ed when  we  mourn.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 
having  a  wounded  heart  healed,  —  a  throbbing 
heart  soothed,  —  an  aching  heart  consoled. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  getting  "  the  oil  of 
joy  for  mourning ;  the  garment  of  praise  for 
the  spirit  of  heaviness";  —  a  different  thing, 
very,  from  healing  the  hurt,  slightly,  with 
amusement,  or  business,  or  philosophy  so 
called.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  affliction 
itself  being  turned  into  blessing;  mourning 
itself  into  rejoicing ;  lamentations  themselves 
into  praises.  The  very  death  and  burial  of  an 
earthly  hope  —  an  occasion  to-day  of  the  bit- 
terest grief — may  be  to-morrow  a  source  of 
the  purest  blessing.     The  very  time  and  place 

*  When  Bishop  Butler  lay  on  his  death-bed,  he  called  for  his 
chaplain,  and  said,  "  Though  I  have  endeavored  to  avoid  sin 
and  to  please  God  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  yet,  from  the 
consciousness  of  perpetual  infirmities,  I  am  still  afraid  to  die." 
"My  lord,"  said  the  chaphiin,  ''you  have  forgotten  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  a  Saviour."  "  True,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  how  shall 
I  know  that  he  is  a  Saviour  for  me?"  "My  lord,  it  is  writ- 
ten, 'He  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out,'  " 
"  True,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  and  I  am  surprised,  that,  though  I 
have  read  that  Scripture  a  thousand  times  over,  I  never  felt  its 
virtue  till  this  moment.  And  now  I  die  happy."  —  N.  Y. 
Observer,  May^  1840.  , 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  133 

of  its  death  may  be  the  birthplace  and  the 
birthday  of  a  better.  The  tomb  where  we 
bury  it  may  be  the  very  spot  of  resurrection 
for  another  and  a  better.  From  its  very  ashes 
there  may  spring  to  life  a  new  one,  —  a  better 
one,  —  yea,  one  "  full  of  immortality." 

These  things  are  very  precious  blessings. 
Neither  their  reality  nor  their  value  can  be 
questioned.  Both  have  been  proved  by  the 
actual  experience  of  thousands.  But  how  do 
they  spring  into  life  ?  How  do  they  become 
the  portion  of  men  ?  Whence  (lows  this  peace 
in  view  of  evils  temporal  and  of  evils  spiritual? 
Whence  this  comfort  under  the  most  severe 
tribulations  of  life  ? 

I  answer,  —  through  the  knowledge  of  Christ. 
Yes  ;  let  the  Christian  but  open  his  eye  and 
his  heart  to  the  character  of  his  Saviour ;  let 
him  but  perceive  ^ndfeel  the  truth  that  Jesus 
governs  ;  then  he  can  foresee  the  coming  tem- 
pest; ((//e/z  he  can  watch  the  mingling  of  his 
cup;  then  he  can  look  at  the  uplifted  rod  ;  — 
sure  that  he  needs  them  ;  sure  that  they  will 
be  meted  to  him  in  tenderness.  TJien  he  can 
trust,  and  trust,  and  be  at  peace. 

Let  him  but  perceive  and  feel  Christ's  suffi- 
ciency as  his  Sacrifice  ;  his  fidelity  and  ability 


134  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

and  love  as  his  Shepherd  ;  his  power  as  his 
Advocate  ;  and  what  though  he  has  sinned  ? 
what  if  the  Law  do  thunder  ?  what  if  the  ad- 
versary do  roar  ?  what  if  temptations  and 
tempters  do  beset  him  ?  what  if  tliere  are  un- 
slain  corruptions  within  him?  what  if  he  be 
helpless  ?  There  is  blood  enough  for  his 
sprinkling  ;  grace  enough  for  his  pardon  > 
power  enough  for  his  purging;  and  Love 
enough  for  his  sitrety.  Then  —  he  can  rest 
himself  in  peace.  He  can  quietly,  yet  humbly 
and  obediently,  leave  himself,  for  acquittal  and 
salvation,  with  the  faithful  Shepherd  of  Is- 
rael. 

Let  him  but  know  the  sympathy  and  fel- 
lowship of  Christ ;  let  him  but  know  them  by 
having  tested  them  in  the  way  of  confidential 
communion;  and  ihen^  when  the  cloud  of 
grief  bursts,  when  bereavement  strips  him, 
when  some  creature  staff  fails  him,  he  will 
find  his  way,  like  the  pelted  bird,  to  his  place 
of  refuge,  like  the  hunted  hart  to  his  covert. 
He  will  throw  himself  upon  Christ  as  a  bosom 
Friend.  He  will  show  him  his  wounds.  He 
will  tell  him  his  grief.  And  He  who  has 
stricken  will  heaL  Thus  life  will  come  to 
him  from  death  ;  hope  from  darkness.  Trou- 
ble  impels   him   to    his   Saviour ;   and  there, 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  135 

upon  Ids  bosom,  receiving  his  consolations, 
he  gains  a  peculiar  and  precious  foretaste  of 
heaven,  and  an  earnest  of  salvation. 

"  The  men  of  grace  have  found 
Glory  beg-un  below. 
Celestial  fruits,  on  earthly  ground, 
From  Faith  and  Hope,  may  grow.'' 

But  do  you  ask  yet  again,  Whence  flows 
this  peace  ?  and  whence  this  comfort  ?  Then 
I  answer  again, —  not  in  my  own  words, — 
"  Acquaint  now  thyself  with  him  and  be  at 
peace  ;  thereby  good  shall  come  unto  thee." 
"  Grace  and  peace  [shall]  be  multiplied  unto 
you  tlirougli  the  knoivledge  of  God  and  of  Je- 
sus Christ  our  Lord." 

Now,  then,  can  either  you  or  I  compute  the 
value  of  this  knowledge  of  Christ?  Can 
either  you  or  I  compute  the  excellency  of  its 
fruits  ?  Well,  —  well  might  Paul  exclaim, 
"  I  count  all  things  loss  for  the  excellency 
of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord." 
And  well  may  we  echo  his  exclamation. 
Well  may  we  plead  continually  with  this 
prayer  upon  our  lips, — "Lord,  Lord,  ever- 
more give  us  this  bread." 

Is  there  any  equivalent  for  this  knowledge  ? 
Is  there  any  thing  else  which  will  "  yield  us  the 


136  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness  "  ?  any  thing 
else  which  will  train  us  up  to  the  fulness  of 
the  stature  of  perfection  in  Christ?  any  thing 
else  which  will  invigorate  hope,  faith,  love, 
obedience,  meekness,  brotherly  kindness,  char- 
ity, every  other  virtue  ?  any  thing  else  which 
will  impel  us  to  fidelity,  to  steadfastness,  to 
labor,  to  self-denial,  to  consistency  ?  any  thing 
else  which  can  fill  us  with  peace  ?  which  can 
open  to  us  the  fountain  of  God's  consolation 
in  our  days  of  trial?     What? 

As  for  the  world,  —  the  things  of  the  world, 
a.nd  the  friendship  of  the  world,  —  they  are 
powerless.  They  are  not  to  be  reckoned.  They 
have  no  more  intrinsic  fitness  to  the  soul's 
wants,  than  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  have  to 
the  body's  wants.  But  go  to  the  Bible.  What 
else  is  there  even  there  which  can  do  these 
things  for  us  ?  "  The  Law  is  weak  through 
the  flesh."  "  The  Law  is  our  schoolmaster" 
only  "  to  h'ing  us  to  Christ.^^  Look,  then,  at 
the  Gospel.  But  what  is  there  there  which 
can  thus  serve  us  ?  Why  !  Christ  is  the  Alpha 
and  the  Omega  of  the  Gospel.  All  the  Gos- 
pefs  doctrines  are  both  senseless  and  power- 
less save  as  they  teach  us  Christ. 

O,  it  is  in  vain  to  hope  for  growth  in  grace,  for 
sanctification  of  heart,  for  holiness  of  life,  for  the 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  137 

influence  of  consistent  example,  for  peace,  foi 
comfort,  for  any  thing  by  which  we  may  adorn 
.the  doctrine  of  our  Lord,  do  good,  overcome 
the  world,  and  ripen  for  heaven,  —  without  the 
knowledge  of  Christ!  This  is  the  great  secret 
of  piety.  This  is  the  secret  of  its  growth. 
This  is  the  great  antidote  to  sin  ;  to  spiritual 
slumber;  to  stupidity;  to  the  seductions  of  the 
world ;  to  an  unquiet  mind ;  to  a  bleeding 
heart.  It  is  this^  brother.  Nothing  else, 
whether  in  heaven  above  or  the  earth  be- 
neath. 

Do  you  say,  "  There  is  the  Holy  Spirit ; 
He  is  to  sanctify ;  He  is  to  guide ;  He  is  to 
comfort ;  I  wait  for  Him  to  come  and  revive 
me"  ?  Show  me  —  show  me  —  a  single 
evidence  that  the  Holy  Spirit  ever  sanctifies, 
ever  revives,  ever  makes  useful  or  happy,  save 
through  the  truth,  —  the  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
—  the  knowledge  of  the  "truth  as  it  is  in  Je- 
sus,''^  —  and  your  reference  to  the  Spirit  will 
hold  good.     But,  my  brother,  not  till  then. 

No  ;  no.  Were  you  as  well  taught  as  Paul 
in  the  doctrine  of  election,  or  in  the  doctrine  of 
regeneration,  or  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy 
Spirit's  agency,  or  in  the  nature  and  necessity 
of  personal  holiness,  or  in  the  terrors  of  a 
broken  Law,  —  the    blessings   which    I   have 


138  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

specified  cannot  accrue  to  you  in  their  fulness, 
and  some  of  them  not  at  all,  unless  you  maintain 
an  intimate,  endearing  knowledge  of  Christ. 
They  cannot  be  yours  unless,  like  Paul,  you 
make  all  these  doctrines  your  conductors  to 
the  cross,  your  interpreters  of  Jesus. 

How  easy  it  is,  now,  to  discern  the  great 
and  lamentable  cause  of  the  deficiencies  of 
Christian  experience,  —  ignorance  of  Jesus 
Christ.  It  is  this  —  which  makes  Christians 
tire  in  their  course.  It  is  this  —  which  clogs 
their  feet.  It  is  this  —  which  makes  them  reel 
and  fall  and  go  to  sleep.  It  makes  them  heavy- 
hearted,  and  unsteady,  and  faint,  and  fearful, 
and  desponding,  and  worldly-minded.  It  betrays 
them  into  by-paths.  It  clouds  their  hopes.  It 
silences  their  songs.  It  unbalances  their  graces. 
It  unnerves  their  arms.  It  makes  them  false 
witnesses  of  the  grace  of  God.  It  withers  all 
those  beauties  and  blessings  which  the  knowl- 
edge of  Christ  imparts.  It  is  not  the  world 
that  does  all  this.  It  is  not  the  adversary. 
No.  It  is  ignorance  of  Christ.  Were  lie  in 
lively  remembrance  in  their  hearts  daily;  if 
they  did  but  keep  his  excellence  imaged  upon 
the  mirror  of  their  affections;  think  you  they 
would  be  entrapped  by  a  paltry  world  ?  think 
you  they  would  not  resist  the  Devil?  think  you 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  139 

they  would  not  keep  chains  and  fetters  upon 
indwelling  sin  ?  think  you  they  would  go 
mourning  all  the  day  ? 

I  have  known  two  aged  Christians.  They 
had  passed  their  threescore  years  and  ten,  and 
most  of  that  time  they  had  worn  the  badge 
of  Christ.  Of  their  Christian  histories  I  can- 
not testify,  but  in  one  particular.  One  has 
fallen  asleep  in  Jesus.  The  other  still  lingers 
here,  —  I  doubt  not  because  she  must  yet  learn 
more  of  Christ  ere  she  will  be  meet  for  heaven. 
She  who  died,  stood  for  a  long  time  upon  the 
brink  of  Jordan  ;  expecting  the  coming  of  her 
ministering  angels.  She  seemed  to  understand 
well  those  words,  —  "O  death  I  where  is  thy 
sting?  O  gravel  where  is  thy  victory?" 
And  what  gave  her  courage  and  peace  ? 
What  strengthened  her  so  long  under  the  very 
shadow  of  dissolution  ?  It  was  her  knowl- 
edge of  Christ.  Her  eye  and  heart  were  filled 
with  him.  Her  tongue  could  speak  his  name, 
and  talk  of  his  love,  and  utter  his  promises, 
and  mention  his  cross.  That  —  was  the  secret 
of  her  serenity.  It  solved  the  mystery  of  her 
peaceful  departure. 

The  other  has  been  starved,  her  whole  life, 
upon  polemic  divinity.  She  has  hung  upon 
the  skirts  of  every  battle  which  has  been  fought 

10 


140  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

between  religious  partisans  for  half  a  century. 
She  has  been  filled  with  "  free  agency,"  and 
"decrees,*'  and  '^  Trinity,"  and  "baptism,"  and 
"  terms  of  communion  "  ;  while  scarce  a  crumb 
has  fallen  to  her  from  the  table  of  Christ; 
scarce  a  ray  has  she  caught  from  his  glory. 
And  now  there  she  stands  upon  the  brink  of 
the  river,  shivering  and  fearing  to  depart,  —  be- 
cause she  sees  not  and  feels  not  the  presence 
and  fulness  of  Christ. 

Brother  in  Christ,  the  bones  of  many  such 
a  disciple  are  mementos  of  the  sad  results  of 
ignorance  of  Christ.  They  are  bleaching  bea- 
cons for  your  warning.  Had  they  tongues, 
every  one  of  them  would  cry  out  to  confirm 
the  truth  which  I  have  tried  to  illustrate. 

Nay  more,  my  brother.  The  names  of 
many  of  your  own  generation  have  been  hung 
up  before  you  on  the  scroll  of  infamy.  The 
ministers  at  the  altar  have  fallen.  And  the 
warning  has  been  rung  in  your  ears  and  mine, 
from  amid  the  noise  and  consternation  of  their 
apostasy,  —  "  Count  all  things  loss,  —  count  all 
things  loss,  —  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  Christ  Jesus  your  Lord." 

Progression  is  as  much  a  law  of  spiritual  as 
of  animal  life.     The  oak  does  not  burst  with 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  141 

a  sudden  explosion  from  the  acorn.  The 
flower  does  not  expand  itself  forthwith  from 
the  parent  seed.  The  lark  does  not  burst  from 
its  shell,  and  fly  up  toward  heaven  all  fledged 
and  strong,  piping  its  clear  melody,  at  once,  xo 
God.  The  man  does  not  leap  up  from  his 
swaddling-clothes,  passing  with  one  convulsive 
stride  from  weak  and  whining  infancy  to  the 
full  glory  of  bearded  and  muscular  maturity. 
Neither  does  the  child  of  God  leap  up  at  once 
to  the  fulness  of  the  stature  of  perfection  in 
Christ  Jesus.  He  also  is  first  a  babe ;  then, 
a  child  ;  then,  step  by  step,  a  full-grown  man. 
It  is  so  with  Christian  knowledge.  It  is  so 
with  the  knowledge  of  Christ.  It  would  be 
more  rational  to  suppose  that  the  mind  of  a 
young  pupil  could  at  once  stride  from  the 
multiplication-table  to  all  the  mysteries  and 
involutions  of  the  higher  mathematics,  than  to 
suppose  that  he  whose  spiritual  eye  is  but  just 
opened  can  comprehend  at  a  glance  all  the 
glory  of  Him  who  hath  "set  down  with  the 
Father  on  his  throne  "  ;  before  whom  angels 
bow^  and  seraphs  cover  their  faces. 

"  The  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over  the  bride." 
He  has  much  to  tell  you  about  the  pearl 
which  he  has  found  and  won.  He  thinks  — 
poor  man — that  he  knows  the  worth  of  his 


142  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

treasure  now.  But  go  to  him  when  the  cares 
and  the  checkered  alternations  of  life  have  fur- 
rowed his  cheek  and  bared  his  brow  and 
bleached  his  locks.  Go  to  him  when  he  has 
tested  the  wife  of  his  youth  through  joys  and 
through  troubles  ;  when  he  has  drunk  deep  at 
the  fountain  of  her  sympathy,  and  seen  her 
constancy  unharmed  in  many  a  furnace ;  — 
and  he  will  laugh  at  the  simplicity  and  boast- 
ing and  praises  of  his  bridal  days.  He  will 
tell  you,  that  he  knew  not  whereof  he  affirmed 
in  the  times  of  his  first  exultation.  He  will 
tell  you,  that,  —  though  time  has  worn  out 
youth,  and  cares  have  faded  beauty,  —  yet 
time  and  cares  both  have  brought  to  light 
many  a  better  grace,  and  bound  many  a  dearer 
cord  of  union  about  him  and  the  wife  of  his 
bosom. 

So  it  is  with  the  Christian  in  his  discovery 
of  the  fulness  of  Christ.  In  the  day  of  his 
espousal  he  thinks  that  he  knows  his  treasure. 
Something  of  it  he  does  know.  Something  of 
it  he  does  feel.  It  is  indeed  Christ  upon  whom 
he  leans.  It  is  indeed  his  voice  that  he  hears. 
It  is  indeed  of  his  beauty  and  loveliness  that 
he  is  enamored.  I  say,  —  he  thinks  that  he 
knows  his  Saviour.  Bat,  O,  how  little  he 
knows !     Go  to  him  when  years  of  fellowship 


THE  KNOAVLEDGE  OF  CHRIST.      143 

and  sympathy  have  taught  him  wisdom ; 
when  he  has  tested  the  constancy  of  Christ 
through  many  a  sea  of  trouble  ;  when  he  has 
sat  at  the  feet  of  Christ  and  studied  his  glory 
through  many  a  storm.  Go  to  him  when  he 
has  almost  passed  over  the  journey  of  his  pil- 
grimage ;  and  he  will  smile  at  the  remem- 
brance of  his  spiritual  infancy,  —  not  because 
his  knowledge  of  Christ  was  then  untrue  or 
insipid,  but  because  he  thovg-hf,,  in  his  un- 
fledged youth,  that  he  understood  the  excel- 
lence of  Christ.  True,  in  his  spiritual  child- 
hood the  knowledge  of  Christ  was  reviving 
and  clear.  Yet  he  will  speak  of  it  now  as 
only  the  knowledge  of  his  spiritual  alphabet ; 
as  the  A  B  C  of  his  Christian  wisdom. 

The  love  of  a  young  disciple  is  like  a  stream 
at  its  fountain-head.  True,  it  goes  down 
the  mountain-side  by  leaps.  It  laughs,  and 
sparkles,  and  babbles  in  the  sunshine,  like  a 
thing  of  perfect  life  and  gladness.  But  it  has 
not  half  the  depth,  nor  breadth,  nor  speed,  nor 
power,  as  when  it  has  reached  the  valley  ;  as 
when  it  has  taken  tributary  waters  to  its 
bosom ;  as  when  it  flows  noiselessly  along, 
clothing  a  thousand  meadows  and  hamlets 
with  verdure  and  fatness.  So,  I  say,  is  the 
love  of  a  Christian  for  Christ;  buoyant  and 


144  THE     Kx\0\VLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

sprightly  in  its  youth,  but  mighty  and  large  and 
rich  its  manhood.  And  the  secret  of  its  in- 
crease is  this,  —  that  in  its  youth  the  kiioivU 
edge  of  Christ  was  comparatively  small ;  in 
manhood,  that  knowledge  has  miultiplied  a 
thousand-fold. 

It  being  true,  then,  that  love  to  Christ  is 
progressive,  and  that  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
(which  is  the  aliment  of  that  love)  is  progres- 
sive also,  it  is  an  interesting  point  of  inquiry, 
by  what  means  this  knowledge  may  be  in- 
creased. 

Evidently  it  must  be  by  means  of  effort. 
We  must  take  pains  to  grow  in  the  knowledge 
of  Christ,  as  well  as  to  grow  in  any  other 
knowledge.  Mere  wishing  and  sighing  for  it 
will  not  bring  it.  Mere  rifourning  over  our  ig- 
norance will  not  bring  it.  Why  is  it,  that  the 
schoolboy,  with  all  his  drilling,  is  sometimes  a 
bungling  stammerer  over  his  book  ?  Does  he 
not  ivish  to  read  ?  to  read  with  ease  ?  to.  read 
with  accuracy  ?  Certainly  he  does.  But  he 
hates  tlie  cost.  He  wants  a  royal  road  to 
knowledge.  He  wants  to  dodge  the  toil.  Of 
course^  he  is  a  bungler.  Why  is  it  that  the 
man  of  strong  health  and  strong  sinews  is 
poor ;  his  wife  in  rags,  his  children  hungry  ? 
Does  he  not  wish  to  have  the  means  of  liveli- 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  145 

hood  ?  Does  he  not  ivish  for  wealth  ?  Does 
he  not  mourn  over  his  poverty  ?  Does  he  not 
sincerely  sigh  for  a  better  lot  ?  Most  certainly 
he  does.  But  he  hates  the  cost,  the  toil  of 
wealth.  He  loves  to  turn  himself  in  his  bed 
and  cry,  "  A  little  more  sleep,  —  a  little  more 
sleep."  He  loves  to  lounge  at  the  corners  of 
the  streets.  Of  course^  he  is  poor.  Of  course, 
—  although  he  has  health  and  strength.  Of 
course,  —  although  both  neighbor  and  nature 
would  pay  as  good  bounty  for  his  labor  as  for 
that  of  others. 

It  is  a  law  which  God  has  established,  that 
blessings  shall  come  by  price.  He  who  would 
eat  must  work.  He  who  would  be  rich  must 
work.  He  who  would  be  well  versed  in  nat- 
ural science  must  study.  And  so,  he  who 
would  be  proficient  in  religious  knowledge  — 
in  the  knowledge  of  Christ  —  must  labor  for 
it.  The  alternative  is  before  him  ;  either  be 
indolent  and  take  the  consequences  of  an  un- 
happy and  shameful  ignorance,  or  be  diligent 
in  the  study  of  Christ  and  reap  the  blessed  re- 
wards of  his  knowledge.  There  is  no  other 
course.  Wishing'  for  piety,  and  enjoyment, 
and  consistency,  and  peace,  will  never  bring 
them.  Wishing  for  a  familiar  knowledge  of 
the   fulness   and   grace   of  Christ   will   never. 


146  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

bring  it,  nor  those  its  blissful  fruits.  Never 
Never.  Mourning  over  your  religious  igno- 
rance, my  brother,  and  over  the  bitter  conse- 
quences of  that  ignorance,  —  I  grant  it  may  be 
sincere  and  hearty,  —  but  it  will  never  mend 
matters  with  you.  Ten  thousand  sluggish 
tears,  and  sighs,  and  groans,  will  never  draw 
down  upon  you  one  beam  of  light, —  one 
smile,  —  one  sweet  manifestation,  —  from  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ.     Never.     Never. 

There  are  schools  where  you  may  be  taught 
of  Christ.  There  are  "  instructors  in  Christ." 
Do  you  ever  take  pains  to  watch  the  events  of 
providence  ?  Do  you  ever  piously,  seriously, 
earnestly,  count  over  the  blessings  of  your  life, 
and  its  afflictions  ?  Do  you  ever  notice  obsta- 
cles which  sometimes  spring  up  to  keep  you 
from  sin  and  temptation  ?  Do  you  ever  dwell 
upon  the  truth  that  the  hand  of  your  Redeemer 
is  in  all  these  things  ?  and  his  loving-kindness  ? 
and  his  grace  ?  Do  you  ever  sit  down  to  look 
at  them,  and  admire  them,  and  enjoy  them,  as 
fruits  of  his  sufferings,  as  the  purchases  of  his 
blood  ?  •  Do  you  ever  thus  hear  and  regard 
their  sweet  testimony  of  Jesus?  If  you  do 
not,  no  wonder  if  you  are  ignorant  of  Christ  as 
they  declare  him  ;  no  wonder  if  you  do  not 
find  daily  teachers  of  his  grace  in  the  events 


THE    KNOWLEDGE     OF    CHRIST.  147 

of  your  life  ;  no  wonder  if  you  do  not  g-row  in 
the  knowledge  of  Christ.  You  ought  to  sit 
and  hearken  to  the  whisperings  of  his  Provi- 
dence ;  to  the  music  of  his  works  and  deeds. 
This  you  ought  to  do,  if  you  would  learn  Him 
who  loved  you  and  died  for  you.  This  you 
ought  to  do  if  you  would  reap  the  precious 
fruits  which  grow  upon  the  tree  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  Christ. 

Do  you  ever  take  pains  to  study  the  testi- 
mony of  Scripture  concerning  Christ  ?  I  do 
not  ask  you  if  you  read  your  Bible.  Do  you 
search^itl  eagerly?  prayerfully?  habitually? 
Do  you  se'arch  out  Christ  in  it?  O,  how  fully 
the  Scriptures  testify  of  Him  I  Precious  words 
there  about  his  love  ;  about  his  value  ;  about 
his  power;  about  his  blood!  Every  doctrine 
speaks  of  him  ;  every  prophecy ;  every  type 
and  shadow ;  every  historical  fact,  from  the 
creation  to  the  destruction  of  the  holy  city. 
There  are  a  thousand  tongues  there  which 
make  melody  in  praise  of  Jesus.  Brother,  are 
you  wont  to  go  and  hear  their  music  ?  Are 
you  wont  to  go  and  hear  until  your  heart  is 
touched  and  fired,  and  your  own  tongue  im- 
pelled to  join  the  chorus  ?  If  not,  I  do  not 
wonder  if  you  are  ignorant  of  Christ.  I  do 
not  wonder  if  you   are    barren  and  unfruit 


148  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

fill  and  joyless.  It  must  be  so.  It  must 
be  so. 

Do  you  love  the  sanctuary  ?  Do  you  love 
the  assemblies  of  his  saints  ?  Do  you  love  to 
go  wherever  Christ's  name  is  uttered  and  his 
goodness  explained  ?  Do  you  g'O  ?  Do  you 
hear?  Do  you  watch  and  strive  there  to  leai'n 
something  of  Christ  ?  Brother,  it  hath  pleased 
God  to  give  efficacy  to  preaching,  yea,  to  "the 
foolishness  of  preaching."  It  hath  pleased 
Christ  to  manifest  himself  in  the  assemblies  of 
his  saints ;  even  where  but  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  his  name.  And  if  you 
lightly  esteem,  and  needlessly  slight  these 
means  of  grace,  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  ig- 
norance, and  your  barrenness,  your  feeble  faith, 
your  half-expiring  love.  A  coal  of  fire  will  g-o 
out  if  alone.  It  will  burn  brighter  and  brighter 
with  others.  And  your  joy  and  light  and  fer- 
vor will  go  out  without  the  aliment  of  Chris- 
tian fellowship.  Do  you  say  that  you  lightly 
esteem  these  means  of  grace  because  you  have 
but  little  spirituality  ?  Nay,  nay,  the  other 
way.  You  have  little  spirituality  because  you 
lightly  esteem  these  means  of  grace  ;  because 
you  do  not  prize  them  and  use  them  as  teach- 
ers of  Jesus. 

Do  you,  or  do  you  not,  keep  Christ's  words  ? 


THE     KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  149 

One  of  his  disciples  once  said  to  him,  when  on 
earth,  '••  Lord,  how  is  it  that  thou  wilt  mani- 
fest thyself  unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world  ? 
Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  If  a  man 
love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words,"  —  and  Christ's 
words  concern  the  sanctuary,  the  Scriptures, 
the  government  of  his  hands,  and  our  daily 
life  in  all  things  ;  —  "he  will  keep  my  words, 
and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will 
come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with 
him." 

And  how  is  it  with  your  closet  ?  There 
Jesus  manifests  himself  peculiarly.  It  is  in 
the  hour  of  secret  appeal,  when  the  business 
and  friends  of  the  world  are  excluded,  in  the 
hour  when  we  cast  ourselves  upon  his  love, 
when  we  lay  the  secrets  of  our  hearts  before 
him  with  affectionate  and  trustful  ingenuous- 
ness,  that  Christ  most  preciously  manifests 
and  communicates  himself.  Not  by  visible 
presence,  not  by  audible  voice,  but  by  awaking 
us  to  new  and  fresh  perceptions  of  himself,  by 
bringing  into  conscious  and  vigorous  vibration 
those  cords  of  endearment  which  subsist  be- 
tween himself  and  us  ;  as  verilv  and  as  efl'ectu- 
ally  as  if  by  vision  or  by  speech.  The  actual 
sympathy,  the  active  communion,  between 
Christ  and  his  beloved  here  in  no  ivise  depend 


150  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRiyT. 

upon  organs  of  sense.  The  spirit  of  Christ, 
and  the  spirit  of  his  closet-worshipper,  are  as 
free  of  sense  as  though  the  one  had  no  glorified 
body,  and  the  other  no  fleshly.  The  hour  of 
their  exclusive  spiritual  intercourse  is  one  of 
spiritual  and  real  interchange.  The  disciple 
expounds  himself  to  Christ,  and  Christ  to  the 
disciple.  The  weak  goes  thence  strengthened; 
the  timid,  emboldened  ;  the  wavering,  believ- 
ing ;  the  afflicted,  consoled  ;  the  desolate,  con- 
scious of  a  Friend  ;  —  each  acquisition  being 
the  result  of  new  and  timely  perceptions  of 
Christ,  and  each  perception  the  result  of  his 
direct  manifestation.  Such  has  ever  been 
Christian  experience ;  and  such  ever  will  be. 
There  must  you  go  ;  thus  must  you  deport 
yourself,  if  you  would  grow  in  the  knowledge 
of  your  Saviour ;  if  you  would  gather  the 
most  richly  of  "  the  true  bread  from  heaven." 

Do  YOU  ? 

Do  you  ever,  or  never,  give  up  business  or 
diversion  or  ease  for  the  sake  of  going  to  the 
closet,  to  the  sanctuary,  to  the  more  private 
fellowship  of  Christ's  people ;  for  the  sake  of 
using  any  and  every  means  which  can  increase 
your  knowledge  of  your  Redeemer  ?  How  is 
it  ?  If  you  do  not,  is  Christ  to  you  "  the  chief- 
est  among  ten  thousand,"  the  one  "  altogether 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHJIIST.  151 

lovely  "  ?  And  if  he  is  not,  are  you  his  ?  And 
if  you  are  not  his,  are  you  safe  ?  Is  your  hope 
good  ?  Will  it  anchor  you  in  the  day  of  your 
dissolution  ? 

By  your  obligations  to  glorify  the  Lord,  — 
by  the  brevity  and  value  of  your  life,  —  I  be- 
seech you  to  know  Christ  more,  and  more, 
and  more.  Study  him.  Use  the  means  —  all 
the  means — of  searching  his  "unsearchable 
riches."  Otherwise  you  will  not  be  a  growing, 
happy  Christian  ;  you  will  not  meet  your  ob- 
ligations to  Christ,  your  precious  Saviour.  If 
the  knowledge  of  Christ  is  the  charm  of  heaven, 
it  is  the  ch^rm  of  the  Christian  on  earth.  If 
this  is  the  secret  of  the  Church's  holiness,  of 
its  harmony,  of  its  fellowship  there,  it  is  the 
secret  of  its  holiness,  and  happiness,  and  fel- 
lowship here.  "  Grace  and  peace"  must  "be 
multiplied  unto  you  through  the  knowledge  of 
God  and  of  Jesus  our  Lord." 

I  am  aware  that  I  have  given  but  an  out- 
line of  this  subject.  I  am  aware  that  I  have 
not  fully  done  even  this.  I  am  aware  that  1 
have  not  noticed  the  fundamental  truth,  that 
this  knowledge  of  Christ  is  itself  the  constituent 
element  of  eternal  life ;  that  I  have  not  at- 
tempted to   illustrate   the  declaration  of  our 


152  THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST. 

Saviour,  "  This  is  Life  eternal,  that  they  migh^ 
knoiu  thee  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Chris\ 
whom  thou  hast  sent "  ;  neither  that  signincan* 
word  of  the  prophet,  "  By  his  knoivledge  shah 
my  righteous  servant  justify  many."     What  I 
have   said  is  but  suggestive,  and  feebly  sug- 
gestive.    But  will  you,  my  Christian  brother, 
seize  upon  whatever  of  truth  I  have  sketched, 
and  use  it  as  a  stimulant  to  your  own  heart  ? 
As  you  lay  aside  this  little  volume,  will  you 
retain  in  your  memory,  and  cherish  for  prayer- 
ful meditation,  "  the  ki^owledge  of  Christ"  in 
all  its   phases   and  bearings  ?     If  you  will,  I 
shall  have  been  his  instrument  for  your  profit, 
to  your  joy,  to  your  usefulness,  to  your  greater 
measure  of  spiritual  Life.     If  you  will,  my  ob- 
ject is  attained.     To  nothing  higher  do  I  here- 
in aspire.     I  point  you  to  Christ.     I  commend 
him    to    you.      I  commend   you   to   him.      I 
leave  you  at  his  feet,   for  his  fellowship.     1 
would  also  "  bow  my  knees  unto  the  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  the  whole 
family  in  heaven  and  earth  is  named,  that  he 
would  grant  you  according  to  the  riches  of  his 
glory,  to   be  strengthened  with  might  by  his- 
Spirit  in  the  inner  man,  that  Christ  may  dwell 
in  your  heart  by  faith  ;  that,  being  rooted  and 
grounded  in  love,  you  may  be  able  to  compre- 


THE    KNOWLEDGE    OF    CHRIST.  153 

hend,  with  all  saints,  what  is  the  breadth,  and 
length,  and  depth,  and  height ;  and  to  know 
the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowledge, 
that  you  may  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of 
God.'' 


THE   WEALTH  OF  THE  BELIEVER. 

Did  I  wish  to  laugh  to  scorn  the  creed  of 
Christians,  I  would  not  point  to  the  doctrines 
of  miracles  and  everlasting  perdition.  I  would 
not  point  to  the  twofold  nature  of  Christ,  as 
metaphysically  absurd ;  nor  to  the  unmixed 
humanity  of  Christ,  as  involving  the  Scriptures 
in  self-contradiction ;  nor  to  vicarious  atone- 
ment, as  grossly  inconsistent  with  Divine  jus- 
tice; nor  to  the  sufferings,  ivithout  atonement, 
of  one  who  knew  no  sin,  as  doublij  inconsistent 
with  justice.  I  would  simply  point  to  these 
words  of  Paul,  addressed  to  his  contempora- 
ries at  Corinth,  "  All  things  are  yoursP 

Compare  this  with  other  assertions  of  the 
Bible.  Where  any  thing  else  so  startling,  so 
staggering  to  faith  ?  Not  only  the  Son  given 
as  a  sacrifice  for  the  guilty,  as  a  Redeemer  of 
the  lost,  but  "  all  things "  else  beside  I  Not 
only  the  greatest,  but  the  greatest  and  the 
least !  Not  only  the  choicest  gem  in  the  coffer, 
not  the  priceless,  peerless  treasure  only,  but 
the  coffer  itself  and  all  its  stores  I     Not  only 


THE    BELIEVERS    WEALTH.  155 

bounty  without  similitude,  but  bounty  without 
measure  and  without  end ! 

And  yet  as  Christians  we  would  point  to 
these  same  words  with  exultation.  We  would 
point  to  this  wondrous  heirship  and  say,  "  Here 
is  brilliance  which  seems  like  heaven's ;  here  is 
bounty  which  looks  like  God's.  If  you  would 
know  what  He  is  in  whom  we  trust;  if  you 
would  know  the  boundless  grace  in  which  we 
rejoice  ;  if  you  would  know  the  portion  which 
we  choose  ;  man  of  doubts,  of  little  faith,  look 
here.  Look  at  this  charter  of  our  inheritance, 
and  tell  us  who  is  a  God  like  unto  our 
God." 

Yes ;  it  needs  a  towering  faith  to  receive 
this  assurance  as  a  very  truth.  It  needs  an 
eye  which  can  bear  a  dazzling  glory,  to  survey 
it.  But  when  received  and  when  surveyed,  it 
becomes  a  precious  and  peculiar  tie  between 
the  soul  and  God.  It  is  so  great  that  it  is 
hardly  to  be  believed  ;  and  yet  because  it  is  so 
great,  it  is  beyond  value  to  the  believer.  It  is 
so  vast  and  so  full  of  splendor,  that  it  may 
confound  the  sceptic.  But  the  Christian  sees 
in  its  very  brightness  and  vastness  the  impress, 
the  seal,  the  signature  of  God  ;  and  holds  it, 
and  believes  it,  and  glories  in  it,  because  it 
is  so  full  of  God-like  richness  and  God-like 
grace. 


156  THE  believer's  wealth. 

"  They  are  not  all  Israel  which  are  of  Israel ; 
neither  because  they  are  the  seed  of  Abraham 
are  they  all  children."  "  He  is  not  a  Jew  who 
is  one  outwardly  ;  neither  is  that  circumcision 
which  is  outward  in  the  flesh  ;  but  he  is  a  Jew 
who  is  one  inwardly,  and  circumcision  is  that 
of  the  heart,  in  the  spirit  and  not  in  the  letter." 
So  they  are  not  all  Christ's  who  are  of  Christ. 
Many  adopt  his  name  ;  many  wear  his  badge  ; 
many  speak  his  language,  —  who  are  not  his. 
Who,  then,  are  his  ?  Who  belong  to  him  ? 
Who  are  his  people  ?  What  is  it  to  be 
Christ's? 

Suppose  we  adopt  the  sinful  habits  of  the 
world,  and  its  sickening  and  soulless  frivolities. 
We  pitch  our  tents  beside  its  fountains  of  im- 
pure pleasure.  We  leap  amid  its  eddies  of 
delirious  and  noisy  mirth.  We  put  the  cup 
to  our  neighbor's  lips  and  wring  out  to  the 
wife  of  his  youth  its  dregs  of  wormwood  and 
gall.  Is  this  being  Christ''s?  Why!  Jesus 
Christ  says,  "  Follow  me."  Is  this  treading 
w^here  he  has  trodden  ?  Are  the  prints  of  his 
footsteps  —  here  ?  Where  ?  And  if  we  do 
not  "  follow  "  Christ,  are  we  his  ? 

But  suppose  less.  We  are  habitually  neg- 
lectful of  spiritual  duties.  We  are  not  wont 
to  praise  and   honor   God  before   men.     We 


THE     believer's    WEALTH.  157 

have  no  dear  communion  with  him.  We 
have  no  altar  where  we  burn  the  sweet  in- 
cense of  secret  devotion.  Is  this  being  Christ's  ? 
Is  this  following  his  steps  ?  —  his  steps  who 
shaped^his  life  and  bore  his  cross  for  the  honor 
of  his  Father  ?  And  if  we  do  not  "  follow  " 
him,  are  we  Christ's  ? 

But  suppose  still  less.  We  are  habitually 
neglectful  of  moral  duties.  We  give  no  oil 
and  no  wine  and  no  place  of  rest  to  him  who 
has  been  wounded  by  thieves.  We  have  no 
ministrations  for  the  sick ;  no  bounty  for  the 
poor ;  no  good  sympathy  for  the  afflicted  and 
bereaved.  We  are  rough,  or  uncourteous,  or 
repulsive  in  our  ordinary  transactions.  We 
are  harsh,  or  selfish,  or  sullen,  at  our  homes. 
We  ruffle  the  temper,  we  disturb  the  peace,  of 
friends,  of  children,  of  parents,  or  we  thwart 
their  plans  for  enjoyment  or  duty.  I  ask,  Is 
this  treading  in  the  steps  of  Christ  ?  I  ask. 
Is  this  "  following  "  him  ?  Is  this  being  his  ? 
No.  No.  "  If  we  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
we  are  none  of  his."  We  cannot  serve  two 
masters.  We  cannot  serve  God  and  Mam- 
mon. We  cannot  be  Belial's  and  Christ's. 
If  we  are  the  world's  in  our  habits  ;  if  we  are 
the  world's  in  despising  the  honor  and  fellow- 
ship of  God  ;  if  we  are  the  world's  in  our  dis- 


158  THE    believer's    wealth. 

positions,  then  we  are  not  Christ's.  We  may 
be,  we  are,  we  must  be,  his,  just  as  "every 
beast  of  the  forest  is  his,  and  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills "  ;  but  we  are  not  his  chosen 
ones,  —  his  beloved,  —  his  espoused. 

(What,  then,  is  it  to  be  Christ's  ?  It  is  this. 
To  live  for  him.  To  be  his  property  in  the 
best  sense ;  his  devoted  ones.  To  be  his  by 
oath,  by  covenant,  by  service.  To  "  present 
ourselves  a  living  sacrifice,"  —  body,  —  soul,  — 
all,  —  to  Christ.  To  write  his  name  upon  ev- 
ery power  and  upon  every  member.  To  bring 
the  outward  life  and  the  inward  spirit  to  his 
baptism.  To  open  the  eye  and  the  heart  to 
the  touching  testimonials  of  his  love,  to  the 
exciting  beauties  of  his  face,  to  the  enlivening 
glories  of  his  Divine  grace  ;  till  the  outburst- 
ing  tribute  of  the  soul  shall  be,  "  Here,  Lord,  I 
give  myself  away."  It  is  to  have  toward 
Christ  such  a  spirit  that  "  none  of  us  liveth  to 
himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself"  ;  that 
"  whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord,  and 
whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord"  ;  that 
"  whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die  "  hereby,  — 
herein,  —  "  we  are  the  Lord's,^^ 

Who,  then,  are  devoted  to  Christ?  Who 
have  the  spirit  of  entire  consecration  to  their 
Lord  ?     Who  are  striving  to  mould  their  out- 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  159 

ward  deeds,  their  speech,  their  habits,  their  in- 
ward dispositions,  after  the  pattern  of  Christ  ? 
Whoever  they  are,  —  although  their  steps  are 
feeble,  —  although  their  garments  are  not  yet 
purged  to  perfect  whiteness,  —  although  you 
may  detect  many  a  blemish  in  their  deport- 
ment,—  yet,  having  this  spirit  of  devotedness 
to  Christ,  they  are  hereby  his.  Yes  ;  and  if 
Christ's,  then  "joint  heirs  with  Christ."  If 
Christ's,  then  heirs  with  him  who  is  "  heir  of 
all  things."  These  are  they  to  whom  all 
wealth  is  given.  These  are  they  to  whom  all 
things  are  wealth.  So  says  the  inspired  writer, 
"  All  things  are  yours ;  whether  Paul,  or  Apol- 
los,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or  death, 
or  things  present,  or  things  to  come,  —  all  are 
yours."  And  who  are  they  ?  "  And  ye  are 
Chrisfs:' 

But  are  all  things  property  to  those  who  are 
Christ's  ?  —  the  ministry,  with  its  blemishes,  its 
strifes,  and  its  defections  ?  as  well  as  the  min- 
istry with  its  graces,  its  eloquence,  and  its 
piety  ?  Are  all  things  their  property  ?  Have 
they  wealth  in  all  things,  even  in  the  world 
with  its  scorn  and  its  hatred  ?  in  life  with  its 
wants,  its  unceasing  fluctuations,  and  its 
plagues  ?  in  death  with  its  unreported  terrors  ? 
in  things  present,  in  gold,  in  silver,  in  luxury. 


160  THE    believer's    WEALTH. 

in  the  unceasing  tide  of  events  which  is  rolling 
on  from  year  to  year?  in  things  to  come,  —  in 
the  dreadful  doom  of  judgment  as  well  as  in 
its  acquittal  ?  in  hell  as  well  as  in  heaven  ? 

Yes  ;  property  in  all.  Yes,  every  thing  that 
now  is,  is  tributary  to  their  profit ;  and  every 
thing  that  is  to  come,  shall  be.  Every  thing 
—  willing  or  unwilling,  high  or  low,  good  or 
bad  —  is  moved  and  removed,  and  lives  and 
grows  and  acts  and  ceases,  for  their  highest 
and  purest  bliss.  Every  thing  is  theirs  and  is 
laboring  for  their  good  ;  and  every  thing,  with- 
out exception,  shall ;  and  none  can  hinder  it. 
Yes  ;  in  the  very  ragings  of  a  troubled  world ; 
in  the  most  fearful  shapes'  of  depravity  you 
can  name  ;  in  the  noisy  surgings  of  the  lake 
of  woe;  they  have  ministering  servants, — 
property,  —  more,  better,  richer,  surer  property, 
ye  men  of  earthly  pleasures  and  earthly  riches, 
than  ye  have  in  your  mirth  and  laughter,  in 
your  merchandise  and  gold. 

All  things  are  theirs  ;  not  in  their  possession^ 
but  in  their  service ;  r\ot  controlled  by  them, 
but  controlled  for  them.  Paul  and  Apollos, 
and  Cephas  and  Judas  ;  the  whole  line  of  the 
ministry,  good  and  bad,  true  and  false  ;  sin- 
cere men  and  hypocrites  ;  saints  and  cast- 
aways ;  have  not  touched  a  single  spring  of 


161 


influence,  —  have  not  set  in  motion  a  single 
train  of  events,  —  without  bringing  blessings 
upon  those  who  are  Christ's.  All  things  are 
in  the  hand  of  their  Lord.  "  Unto  the  Son,  all 
things  are  delivered  of  the  Father."  And  he 
shall  overrule  all  and  overturn  all,  so  that,  in 
every  event  and  by  every  agent,  the  purposes 
of  God  shall  be  accomplished,  and  the  glory  of 
God — without  a  shade,  without  a  veil,  with- 
out a  cloud  —  shall  be  revealed. 

What  are  the  chief  desires  of  those  who  are 
Christ's  ?  Those  which  were,  and  ever  will 
be,  his, —  "  that  the  Father  may  be  glorified  in 
the  Son"^;  that  "  they  may  behold  his  glory '^ ; 
that  they  may  be  purged  clean  without  spot 
or  blemish.  And  he  who  overrules  and  over- 
turns, —  he  who  holds  the  winds  and  the  seas 
and  thoughts  and  hearts  and  all  things,  —  shall 
guide  and  govern  all  for  the  accomplishment 
of  these  objects. 

Thus  every  influence  of  the  ministry ;  and 
every  wave,  and  burden,  and  bubble  upon  the 
tide  of  time  ;  every  object ;  every  form  of  sin, 
and  every  trophy  of  grace  ;  every  day  of  sun- 
shine, and  every  night  of  storm ;  every  minis- 
tration of  affliction,  and  every  one  of  pros- 
perity,—  shall  all  serve  for  the  full  development 
of  our  Redeemer's  glory,  and  for  the  prepara- 


162  THE  believer's  wealth. 

tion  of  his  people  for  his  courts.  The  men  of 
the  world  are  thus  overruled  and  overturned. 
Their  schemes,  their  wisdom,  their  enterprise, 
their  opposition  to  the  truth,  their  silver  and 
their  gold,  their  rise  and  their  fall,  their  birth 
and  their  death,  and  their  perdition,  —  are  all 
but  make-weights  in  the  balances  of  God's 
purposes.  In  each,  and  in  the  use  of  each,  and 
in  the  remotest  influence  of  each,  is  a  prepara- 
tion-work for  the  coming  of  his  kingdom  ;  a 
purifying  work  upon  the  hearts  of  his  people  ; 
and  a  key  to  the  unsearchable  riches  of  his  ex- 
cellence. They  are  '^  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water  for  the  house  of  the  Lord." 
They  polish  and  arrange  the  members  of  his 
spiritual  temple,  —  unwittingly,  unwillingly  ; 
but  verily  and  perfectly.  And  even  in  the 
death  of  the  body  and  the  death  of  the  soul, 
they  unveil  the  brilliant  mystery  both  of  Grace 
and  of  Justice. 

So,  too,  are  the  life  and  the  death  of  the 
Christian  himself  overturned  and  overruled. 
Every  particular  of  comfort  and  of  trial,  of 
conflict  and  deliverance,  of  hope  and  darkness, 
of  poverty  and  abundance  ;  every  buffeting  of 
Satan  ;  every  thorn  in  the  flesh  ;  the  time,  the 
place,  the  particulars  of  his  dissolution  ;  all  are 
made  tributary  to  the  same  ends,  —  the  perfec- 


THE  believer's    WEALTH.  163 

tion  of  the  soul,  the  spread  of  the  Gospel,  and 
the  display  of  God's  glory. 

So,  too,  with  things  present.  The  rise  and 
fall  of  ennpires ;  the  strifes  and  cruelties  of 
men  ;  every  thing  which  transpires  from  the 
rising  to  the  setting  sun  ;  each  is  made  to 
give  in  its  contribution  to  the  same  great 
ends. 

And  so  with  things  to  come.  In  the  de- 
struction of  the  world  ;  in  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead ;  in  the  decisions  of  the  judgment ; 
in  the  bliss  of  heaven,  and  in  the  hopeless  woe 
of  hell ;  in  pardon  and  in  condemnation  ;  in 
each  shall  be  a  fresh  and  distinct  and  peculiar 
development  of  the  boundless  glory  of  God. 
In  each,  and  by  each,  shall  "  the  Father  be 
glorified  in  the  Son." 

See  now  the  bearing  of  these  things  upon 
those  who  are  Christ's.  See  how  all  things 
are  theirs.  See  how  all  things  are  bringing 
tributary  offerings  to  their  feet.  See  how  all 
things,  and  all  events,  and  all  men,  and  all 
eternity,  are  their  ministering  servants.  Every 
thing  is  fulfilling  the  desires  of  their  hearts. 
Every  thing  is  working  for  that  which  is  their 
pleasure.  Every  one  is  giving  impulse  to  the 
operations  of  grace.  Every  one  hereafter  shall 
reveal  the  story  of  its  influence.     Every  story 


164  THE  believer's  wealth. 

shall  reveal  Redeeming  Love.  Every  new  dis- 
closure of  Kedeeming  Love  shall  give  new 
rapture  to  the  admiring,  adoring  saint.  Thus 
every  thing  is  ministering  to  his  blessedness. 
Every  thing  is  culturing  the  vintage  which  he 
shall  pluck  in  heaven.  Every  thing  is  making 
ready  the  cluster  and  the  cup  for  his  banquet 
in  the  Father's  kingdom.  Every  thing  is  pre- 
paring him  for  his  inheritance  ;  and  his  inher- 
itance for  him. 

O  ye  men  of  worldly  hopes  !  do  you  de- 
spise the  Christian  ?  Do  you  look  upon  his 
lot  as  pitiful,  because  he  is  a  man  of  secret 
burdens  and  many  imperfections  ?  because  he 
denies  himself  where  you  give  the  rein  to  in- 
dulgence ?  because  he  passes  by  the  fountains 
of  pleasure  at  which  you  drink  to  fulness  and 
satiety?  Look  at  his  boundless,  endless  her- 
itage. Look  at  the  inventory  of  his  limitless 
po'ssessions.  Look !  it  covers  all  things.  It 
covers  you  —  and  yours.  Are  you  rich  ?  Your 
silver  and  your  gold  are  —  his.  Are  you  free, 
and  do  you  boast  of  liberty  ?  Your  bodies  are 
—  his.  Your  souls  are  —  his.  Your  very  mem- 
bers and  thoughts,  your  hearts,  your  passions, 
the  noontide  of  your  lives,  the  heyday  of  your 
prosperity,  the  gathering  twilight  of  your  de- 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  165 

dining  sun,  the  coming  darkness  of  your  star- 
less midnight,  all  —  ail  —  are  his.  In  each 
there  is,  or  is  to  be,  some  disclosure  of  those 
depths  of  Grace  or  Justice  which  are  the  sea 
of  his  enjoyments,  the  light  and  the  life  of  his 
heaven.  You  are  bringing  sheaves  into  his 
storehouse.  You  are  paying  tribute-money  into 
his  treasury.  Your  very  pride,  your  scorn, 
your  jest,  your  cutting  accusations  of  incon- 
sistency, are  the  smelting-furnace  of  his  spirit. 
They  are  the  fire  and  the  fuel  with  which 
his  Purifier  is  purging  out  his  dross  to  bring 
him  to  the  brilliant  splendor  and  the  beauteous 
pureness  of  the  virgin  silver.  It  is  not  His 
will  that  any  one  of  all  such  shall  perish. 
They  are  in  his  keeping  in  the  midst  of  their 
troubles.  It  is  his  will,  that  all  things  shall 
be  theirs  ;  you,  —  yours,  —  your  life,  with  its 
every  word,  and  deed,  and  influence  ;  your 
death  with  its  every  terror ;  and  your  eternity, 
—  if  ye  go  there,  what  ye  now  are,  the  servants 
of  the  world,  —  your  eternity,  with  its  every 
woe. 

Such  is  the  wealth  of  those  who  are  Christ's. 
It  is  wealth  beyond  computation,  —  without 
limit  and  without  exhaustion.  It  is  theirs  by 
covenant ;  theirs  by  oath  ;  theirs  to-day ;  and 


166  THE  believer's  wealth. 

theirs  for  ever.    It  is  theirs,  for  they  are  Christ's 
It  is  theirs,  for  they  are  the  fruits  of  his  suffer 
ings,  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  the  children 
of  his  love.     It  is   theirs,  for  it  is  his.     It  is 
theirs,  for  they  and  he  are  one  ;  they  in  him, 
and  he  in  them.     It  is  theirs,  for  his  glory  is 
their  glory  ;    his  interests  are  their  interests ; 
and  his  heirship  is  their  heirship.     It  is  theirs, 
for  as  the  Father  loveth  the  Son,  so  the  Son 
loveth  them  who  are  his  ;  and  as  the  Father 
hath  delivered  all  things  unto  the  Son  for  his  * 
control  and   gift,   so   the   Son   hath  given  all 
things  unto  them  for  their  present  and  endless 
reward. 

Let  me  state  this  whole  matter  in  a  more 
concise  form. 

All  things  are  devoted  to  those  who  are  de- 
voted  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  If  we  are  his 
servants,  then  every  object  and  event  is  made 
our  servant.  If  we  seek  to  be  productive  of 
his  highest  ^/or?/,  then  he  seeks  to  »iaA;e  every 
thing.productive  of  our  highest  enjoyment ;  and 
every  thing  is  so,  in  very  deed  ;  every  thing 
without  exception  ;  every  thing  great  and 
small,  good  and  evil,  past,  present,  and  to 
come,  spiritual  and  temporal,  here  and  there 
and   everywhere.       In   what  other   sense   all 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  167 

things  can  be  said  to  belong  to  those  who  be- 
long to  Christ,  —  in  what  other  sense  all  things 
can  be  theirs^  —  it  is  difficult  to  conceive.  If 
we  are  indeed  Christ's  in  the  best  sense,  if  we 
were  to  become  his  as  purely  and  as  steadily 
as  the  angels  in  heaven,  —  would  all  things 
beconie  ours  in  the  way  of  possession;  or 
rather,  of  control  ?  How  was  it  with  the  Co- 
rinthian church  ?  They  had  no  control  of  the 
wealth  of  the  world,  nor  of  the  men  of  the 
world,  nor  of  the  gifts  of  the  ministry  of  the 
Gospel,  nor  of  their  own  life  or  death,  nor  of 
things  present,  nor  of  things  to  come.  Yet  all 
things  were  theirs.  In  what  sense  ?  Evident- 
ly in  the  only  remaining  sense,  —  devoted  to 
them  ;  their  servants ;  controlled  for  them  ; 
overruled  each,  and  all,  and  evermore,  for  their 
best  and  enduring  happiness  ;  overruled  so  that, 
out  of  every  object  and  every  event,  something' 
should  be  educed  tributary,  not  only  to  their 
spiritual  perfection^  but  to  their  enjoyment. 
From  every  mystery  of  Divine  government,  as 
from  a  deep  sea,  should  come  up  for  them 
some  beauteous  pearl  ;  from  every  lurking- 
place  of  sin,  as  from  the  bowels  of  a  mine, 
some  precious  stone  ;  and  from  behind  every 
cloud  of  judgment  and  retribution,  even,  some 
enrapturing  form  of  wondrous  glory. 


168  THE  believer's  wealth. 

But  to  avoid  misapprehension  of  this  truth 
let  us  look  at  it  a  little  more  closely. 

Jesus  Christ  as  God  7nanifest ;  as  the  only 
communication  or  display  of  the  Divine  Being ; 
aside  from  whom  the  Divine  Excellence  is 
"  unapproachable,"  and  un perceivable,  and 
mantled  with  "clouds  and  darkness";  —  I  say, 
Jesus  Christ,  as  the  manifestation  of  God,  is 
the  "  bread  of  Life."  He  is  the  aliment  of  the 
soul.  In  other  words,  the  affectionate  percep- 
tion of  the  excellence  of  the  Godhead  shining 
in  him  is  the  only  method  of  happiness  for  any 
created  soul.  To  behold  clearly  and  with  per- 
feet  love,  the  fulness  of  God  in  the  Son  —  is 
heaven.  Every  fresh  display  of  this  Divine 
fulness  is  an  increase  of  heavenly  enjoyment. 
Every  thing  which  is  a  means  of  this  display, 
is  a  means  of  new  enjoyment  to  the  soul  who 
is  beholding  that  fulness  with  affection.  Now 
every  thing  shall  be  a  means  of  unfolding  "  the 
glory  of  God,  as  it  shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ."  In  some  way,  every  thing'  shall  illus- 
trate the  excellence  of  God ;  every  thing  shall 
furnish  proof  of  the  goodness  of  Him  who  or- 
ders and  overrules  every  thing.  Every  thing 
does  so  ;  so  far  as  it  is  understood  by  the  crea- 
ture. Every  thing,  therefore,  being  an  inter- 
preter of  God's  goodness,  is  a  ministering  ser- 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  169 

vant  to  him  who  loves  that  goodneps ;  and 
must  be ;  and  shall  be  ;  and  shall  ever  be. 
And  he  who  is  "  Christ's,"  who  is  devoted  to 
him,  does  love  that  boundless  goodness  shining 
out  in  him  ;  loves  it  more  than  all  things  else. 
It  is  his  bread.  It  is  his  soul's  aliment.  It  is 
his  heaven.  Every  thing  shall  interpret  to 
him  that  goodness.  Every  thing  shall  whisper 
to  Jam  some  moving  proof  of  Christ's  glory. 
Every  thing  shall  be  as  a  cloud  to  distil  upon 
his  table  the  manna  and  the  dew  of  spiritual 
Life,  to  impart  to  his  soul  thrift,  and  vigor, 
and  enjoyment. 

But  —  shall  he  feed  and  thrive  upon  the 
story  of  men's  ivoes  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion !  Shall  he  delight  in  the  abomination  of 
his  own  and  of  others'  sins  !  Shall  the  groans 
and  the  curses  of  hell  be  his  gladness  I  Shall 
he  revel  in  the  smoke  of  others'  torment !  If 
so,  where  would  be  his  delight  in  that  God 
who  hateth  sin,  and  hath  no  pleasure  in  the 
death  of  the  sinner?  If  so,  —  while  God  is 
what  he  is,  —  where  would  be  his  heaven  ? 
No.     No.     Impossible.     Absurd. 

Yet  every  thing  is  a  ministering  servant  to 
those  who  are  Christ's.  In  what  way,  then  ? 
In  this  way.  The  terrific  things  which  you 
find  in  the  history  of  the  world,  which  you 


170  THE    BELIEVERS    WEALTH. 

will  find  in  the  woes  of  hereafter,  —  without 
bating  one  jot  of  their  terrors,  without  waking 
one  pulsation  of  pride  or  exultation  or  brutal 
passion,  —  will  so  interpret  God^  will  so  unfold 
Ins  holiness^  will  so  lay  open  the  unfathomed 
depths  of  his  glory,  that  they  who  are  Christ's 
shall  be  taught  the  more  fully  of  the  glories  of 
their  Redeemer  by  every  tale  of  terror,  by  ev- 
ery bellowing  wave  of  retribution,  by  every 
ebb  and  flow  of  depravity.  There  is  no  de- 
light for  them  in  others'  guilt  or  woe.  All 
their  delight,  and  all  their  heaven,  is  —  God 
slmiing^  forth  in  Christ ;  God  interpreted  by 
every  terror  as  truly  and  as  clearly  as  by  every 
blessing.  Thus  it  is  that,  to  Christ's  people, 
all  things  yield  enjoyment ;  not  as  beauteous 
or  delightful  in  themselves  always,  but  as  inter' 
preters  of  God;  as  giving  explanation  or  illus- 
tration, in  some  way,  of  that  most  wondrous 
Divine  glory,  —  the  work  of  Redemption  by 
the  Son. 

In  this  wealth  of  the  believer,  what  Grace  ! 
Here  is  the  Grace  of  God  going  out  in  one 
ceaseless  flow ;  expanding  into  one  vast  and 
beautiful  ocean  without  a  shore.  O,  it  is  all 
grace  !  it  is  all  grace  !  Look  at  it ;  look  at  it, 
Christian  believer ;  look  at  it  and  adore.     If 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  171 

you  are  Christ's,  —  and,  if  a  believer  in  him, 
you  are,  —  if  you  have  in  sincerity  brought 
yourself  to  his  baptism  ;  if  you  are  trying  to 
use  your  time  and  your  privileges  and  your 
talents  in  his  service,  —  then  "all  things  are 
yours  "  ;  pledged  to  you  ;  given  to  you  ;  made 
and  shaped  and  overruled  to  be  tributaries  to 
your  purest  and  endless  enjoyment.  Every 
thing  is  to  become  a  hewn  stone  in  the  fabric 
of  your  heavenly  mansion  ;  or  a  polished  jewel 
in  your  crown  of  glory  ;  or  a  savory  viand  in 
your  banquet-house  of  Love. 

How  is  it  to-day  ?  When  you  look  upon 
the  verdure  of  the  fields ;  when  you  walk 
abroad  under  the  bright  and  gladdening  light 
of  the  sun  ;  when  you  are  compassed  about 
by  the  heavenly  stillness  and  the  choice  com- 
forts of  successive  Sabbaths  ;  when  you  see 
your  children,  as  olive-plants,  about  your  table, 
clad,  and  fed,  and  cared  for,  and  bright  with 
health,  and  hope,  and  promise  ;  wheh  you 
slake  your  thirst  and  refresh  your  spirit  at 
earthly  fountains  opening  and  streaming  all 
around  you ;  and  when  you  pluck  the  rich 
lusters  of  your  common  bounties,  is  there  not 
in  each,  for  yov,  some  foretaste  of  heaven  ? 
Has  not  each,  for  t/ow,  a  relish  unknown  to 
those   who   know   not   Christ  ?      When   you 

12 


172  THE  believer's  wealth. 

think  of  Him  who  is  the  Giver;  w^hen  you 
look  upon  them  as  borne  to  you  by  Ids  hand, 
as  ministered  to  you  by  his  love,  is  it  not  with 
subduing  and  blissful  emotions?  There  — 
there  —  you  recognize  in  every  beauty  and 
bounty  of  Nature,  in  the  sacred  rest  of  every 
Sabbath,  in  every  precious  tie  of  kindred,  in 
short,  in  eve7'y  good  thing,  something  more 
than  its  own  blessing,  and  itg  own  loveliness 
There,  in  each,  you  behold  mirrored,  and  map- 
ped out,  before  you  the  loving-kindness  of 
God.  They  stir  up  your  heart  to  gladness, 
not  because  of  their  own  richness  only,  but 
because  in  each  you  have  a  smile  from  heaven, 
—  a  token  of  remembrance,  —  a  word  of  fel- 
lowship. They  gladden  you  because  they  are 
good ;  but  they  gladden  you  -more  because 
they  teach  you,  and  prove  to  you,  the  good- 
ness of  God.  Each  new  blessing,  and  each 
new  day  of  blessings,  gives  you  a  new  and 
deeper 'and  clearer  insight  into  his  excellence. 

So  with  the  dark  and  gloomy  things  of  life. 
"When  you  think  of  His  overruling  power,  you 
can  hear,  and  you  do  hear,  for  your  peace  and 
comfort,  a  voice  in  every  tempest,  you  see  a 
handwriting  upon  every  cloud,  —  "It  is  I, — 
it  is  I,  —  be  not  afraid."  And  when  the  wind 
has  passed  and  the  cloud  overblown,  you  have 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  173 

found  some  spot  upon  your  surrounding  land- 
scape, or  upon  your  wayward  heart,  which 
has  drunk  a  blessing;  some  spot  whose  bright- 
ness and  newness  of  life  have  betokened  the 
goodness  of  your  God. 

And  how  will  it  be  with  you  hereafter? 
Why !  if  Paul's  words  are  true,  — just  so  then. 
No,  —  not  just  'so  then.  Now  —  all  things 
show  you  God  so  far  as  you  study  them  and 
understand  them.  Then  — all  things  shall 
show  you  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ 
without  fail;  for  look  at  all,  and  understand 
all,  you  ivilL  Then  —  all  things  shall  un- 
fold to  you  your  God  and  your  Saviour,  just 
as  some  things,  in  your  most  precious  and 
heavenly  hours,  do  now.  The  same  work 
which  is  wrought  in  you  when  the  good  things 
of  providence,  of  -the  Gospel,  and  of  the  cross 
reveal  to  you  anew  the  beauties  of  Christ,  and 
knit  your  heart  to  him  anew,  —  the  same  glad- 
ness, the  same  near  access  to  the  mercy-seat, 
the  same  dearness  of  communion,  —  shall 
hereafter  be  wrought  in  you  by  all  things. 
Yes,- — by  all  that  have  been,  or  are,  or  are  to 
be.  Now  —  you  taste  the  cup  ;  then  —  you 
shall  drink  at  the  fountain.  Now  —  you 
hear  sometimes  a  solitary  note  of  melody 
sounding    your     Redeemer's    goodness;    but 


174  THE  believer's  wealth. 

then  —  all  things  shall  blend  together  in  one 
ceaseless,  rapturous  chorus  to  make  known  his 
glory. 

Who  are  ye,  —  to  whom  all  things  shall 
minister?  Who  are  ye^  —  to  whom  all  things 
shall  interpret  the  glory  of  your  best  beloved  ? 
for  whose  service  and  bliss  all  things  are  en- 
rolled and  enlisted  and  pledged  ?  Has  never 
an  impure  breath  ruffled  the  surface  of  your 
spirits  ?  Have  they  always  imaged  the  like- 
ness of  your  God  ?  Has  never  a  thought,  a 
wish,  a  passion,  throbbed  there,  but  with  the 
sanction  of  the  Law  ?  Has  never  an  affection 
moved  with  undue,  unbalanced,  forbidden 
strength  ?  Has  your  best  love  always  been 
for  heaven?  for  God?  Have  your  lives  al- 
ways been  devoted  to  him  ?  your  bodies  ?  your 
souls?  Are  you  deserving  of  good  at  his 
hands,  that  he  has  made  over  to  you  this  store 
of  wealth,  —  all  things  ?  Deserving  !  of  good ! 
What  say  your  consciences  ?  What  said  the 
law  when  it  served  as  your  schoolmaster  ? 
when  it  taught  you  its  lessons,  and  gave  you 
experience  of  its  scourgings  ?  What  say  you, 
as  you  call  to  remembrance  the  wormwood 
and  the  gall  ?  What  say  you,  as  you  look 
now  upon  your  hearts  ?  Deserving  —  of  good 
—  at  the  hands  of  the  Lord  !   Deserving  —  of 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  175 

all  this  I  Why  !  brethren  beloved,  if  you  and 
I  are  Christ's,  we  were  not  alvmys  his.  No,  — 
O,  no !  We  have  thought,  and  spoken,  and 
felt,  and  loved,  not  with  deference  to  the  law 
and  the  will  of  God,  —  but  as  we  have  pleased 
We  let  the  law  go.  And  w^e  let  God  go. 
We  loved  pleasures  and  oar  fellow-creatures 
rather  than  God.  And  thus  we  sold  our- 
selves to  sin  ;  broke  the  whole  law ;  became 
corrupted  through  and  through;  stamped, 
dyed,  leavened  with  sin ;  the  very  opposite  of 
God.  And  we  went  on  so  ;  and  we  went  on ; 
and  we  would  go  on;  against  all  the  warnings 
of  heaven  ;  against  all  the  arguments,  and  ap- 
peals, and  provisions  of  Redeeming  Love ; 
against  ten  thousand  admonitions  and  remon- 
strances of  conscience  ;  against  tUe  repeated 
rebukes  and  strivings  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  We 
were  "  desperately  wicked."  Are  we  deserving 
of  good  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord  ?  Are  we 
deserving  of  "  all  things"  as  our  inheritance  ? 
We  are  deserving  enough ;  but  it  is  of  wrath, 
not  of  kindness;  of  everlasting  beggary,  not  of 
riches  ;  of  hell,  not  of  heaven.  And  we  have 
felt  this :  in  our  very  souls  we  have  been 
tavght  it.  We  are  not  deserving  of  good  ;  not 
of  the  least  good ;  not  of  a  moment  of  quie- 
tude; not  of  a  crumb  from  the  table  of  provi- 


176  THE  believer's  wealth. 

dence  ;  not  of  a  drop  of  refreshing  mercy  ;  not 
of  a  ray  of  hope. 

Yet  "  all  things  "  are  ours.  How  ?  By 
what  means  ?  By  what  tenure  ?  It  is  of  God. 
It  is  of  grace.  It  is  by  the  grace  of  God.  It 
is  all  of  the  grace  of  God.  Witness  the  sins 
of  our  lives,  —  back  —  back  —  to  childhood. 
Witness  the  domineering,  lawless  corruptions 
of  our  hearts.  This  wealth  given  to  us  is  of 
grace  in  every  part  and  portion,  and  in  every 
moment  of  its  duration.  The  vast  fabric  of 
our  inheritance  is  written  all  over,  from  corner- 
stone to  key-stone,  with  —  "  Grace  —  grace  — 
unto  it."  And  5W6'A  grace !  It  is  amazing  I  It 
is  measureless  !     It  is  —  matchless  ! 

But  this  is  not  a  dumb  doctrine.  It  speaks. 
It  speaks  as  with  a  thousand  tongues.  It 
speaks  with  all  the  eloquence  and  emphasis 
of  heaven.  It  speaks ;  and  its  words  are  ech- 
oed from  world  to  world,  from  congregation 
to  congregation,  by  every  thing  that  hath  life, 
or  form,  or  name,  where  the  Spirit  of  God  has 
brooded,  or  the  purpose  of  God  has  been 
known.  It  calls  aloud  for  our  tribute.  It  calls 
upon  those  who  are  Christ's  to  make  some  re- 
turn to  him  who  has  covenanted  with  them 
and  for  them.     It  is,  as  it  were,  the  finger  of 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  177 

God  pointing  to  the  signet-mark  upon  the 
charter  of  Redemption,  and  to  all  things  that 
are,  and  that  are  to  be  ;  to  the  magnificence 
of  Divine  bounty,  to  every  fluttering  hope,  and 
every  gushing  enjoyment  of  the  Christian's 
experience,  appealing  by  all  and  in  the  name 
of  all  to  the  heir  of  these  riches,  and  urging 
him  to  proper  acknowledgments  of  his  infinite 
obligations.  ' 

The  wealth  bestowed  so  richly,  so  freely, 
upon  Christ's  people,  is  reason  for  their  re- 
joicing. Here  indeed  is  cause  for  gladness. 
Here  are  "  durable  riches."  And  here,  in  this 
very  bestowment,  is  distinct  and  surpassing 
proof  of  what  God  is.  Here,  in  this  very  fact, 
is  a  fresh  interpreter  of  God  ;  gathering  the 
separate  testimony  of  all  things  into  one  ;  into 
one  focal  point  of  burning  and  overpowering 
glory. 

But  the  doctrine  of  this  rich  inheritance  ar- 
gues for  something  inore  than  joy.  It  argues 
for  the  tribute  unto  God  of  a  lowly  mind. 
Should  we  be  puffed  up  as  we  look  at  the 
largeness  and  richness  of  his  bounty  to  us- 
ward  ?  Should  we  be  puffed  up  because  he 
has  pledged  to  us  all  things  ?  He  has  not 
done  it  because  we  are  good.  He  has  not 
done  it  because  we  are  the  least  among  sin- 


178  THE    believer's    WEALTH. 

iiers.  In  this  bounty  there  is  no  proof,  no  inti* 
mation  of  good  desert  in  us.  No.  Here  is 
grace.  Its  gJory  is  —  its  ^race.  Here,  then 
in  this  bestowment  of  all  things  is  something 
which  points  us,  not  only  to  the  fulness  and 
glory  of  God,  but  to  the  pollution  in  which  he 
found  us ;  to  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  he 
digged  us  ;  to  our  low  estate  and  misery,  when 
"  by  adoption  "  he  made  us  heirs.  "  Where 
is  boasting  then  ?  It  is  excluded";  excluded 
by  that  which  is  the  very  glory  of  our  inherit- 
ance,—  its  g-race.  Thus,  while  we  look  at 
its  splendor,  while  we  are  lost  in  surveying  its 
wonders,  we  are  forbidden  by  it  to  glory  save 
in  the  Lord.  We  are  commanded  and  com- 
pelled b?/  it  to  bow  with  self-abasement,  while 
we  rejoice  in  the  riches  of  grace.  If  these  rich- 
es are  ours,  and  if  they  are  of  grace,  then  our 
proper  place  is  in  the  dust ;  our  proper  spirit 
is  that  of  deep  and  eternal  humility.  The 
moment  we  look  upon  this  inheritance  with 
an  emotion  of  self-glorying ;  the  moment  we 
make  it  an  occasion  of  high  looks  or  haughty 
thoughts, —  we  pervert  it.  It  was  given  in- 
deed for  our  enjoyment.  But  it  was  also  given 
to  make  known  and  magnify,  perpetually,  the 
riches  of  God's  grace.  And  while  we  look  at 
this   gift   of  "  all   things,"  if  we  do  forget  the 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  179 

guilt  and  the  beggary  in  which  he  found  us, 
we  honor  neither  the  gift  nor  the  Giver.  And 
is  this  a  right  return  when  the  gift  is  all  grace  ? 
Is  Uiiii  right,  when  its  grace  is  its  very  pecu- 
liar glory?  Why!  its  purpose,  and  argument, 
and  very  meaning,  are  all  set  aside  except  we 
see  and  own  our  vileness.  Shall  lue  do  this  ? 
We  who  have  come  (we  hope)  to  such  an 
heirship !  We  whom  God  (we  hope)  has 
brought  thither  !  Shall  we  ?  Can  we  ?  No. 
We  must  have  our  eyes  and  hearts  open 
always,  not  only  to  the  splendor  and  fulness 
of  our  inheritance,  but  to  the  wonder  and 
glory  of  its  grace ;  to  the  deeds  and  ill-desert 
of  our  fearful  and  desperate  depravity  npon 
which  that  grace  is  based  and  ifpreared. 

But  we  owe  to  God  another  duty  in  return, 
—  service.  We  always  should  have  owed 
him  this,  had  he  never  pitied,  had  he  never 
redeemed,  had  he  never  sought  us.  Had  he 
never  shed  upon  us  the  blessings  of  his  for- 
bearance, of  his  tender  providence,  of  his  re- 
straining grace  ;  had  he  never  given  us  one 
token  of  loving-kindness;  we  should  have 
owed  him  entire  and  eternal  service.  How 
much  more  do  we  owe  it  now !  How  much 
more,  —  when  he  has  pitied,  and  redeemed, 
and  found,  and  blessed!     O,  how  much  more 


ISO  THE    believer's    WEALTH. 

when  he  has  bound  us  to  Christ  by  renewing 
grace  I  How  much  more  when  he  has  bound 
all  things  in  our  service  I  when  he  has  bidden 
all  things  to  be  our  ministers !  when  he  has 
opened  for  us  fountains  of  living  waters  every- 
where I 

O  my  brother  in  Christ,  —  look!  The  ar- 
gument of  this  bounty,  the  pealing  argument 
of  all  this  grace,  is  for  service.  Every  thing  is 
given  to  yOu  I  Yes,  —  and  every  thing  adjures 
you  to  be  icholly  the  Lord's.  Shall  such  boun- 
ty, shall  such  grace,  be  powerless  ?  You  are 
beholden  for  steadfast,  untiring,  and  unreserved 
service  ;  not  for  a  fitful,  sluggish,  wavering  ef- 
fort in  the  service  of  Christ.  You  are  beholden 
for  vour  time,  for  the  vi^or  of  your  bodv,  for 
the  vio^or  of  vour  mind,  for  the  fervent  love 
and  obedience  of  your  soul.  You  are  told  so 
by  the  precious  truth  before  us.  You  are  told 
so  by  every  enjoyment  of  God  which  Nature, 
and  Providence,  and  the  Bible,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  your  closet,  give  you.  You  are 
told  so  in  the  name  of  every  thing  which  can 
and  shall  display  God's  goodness ;  in  the 
name  of  every  thing  which  is  to  meet  you  in 
heaven  as  an  interpreter  of  his  glory.  And 
will  you  waver  in  your  love  and  devotedness 
to  Christ !     AVill  you  divide  your  service  be- 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  181 

tween  him  and  tiie  world !  Will  you  allow 
the  dross,  and  the  trash,  and  the  lying  vanities 
of  life,  to  make  you  forget  his  loveliness  and 
loving-kindness  and  grace!*  'W'lW  you  be  a 
stupid,  slumbering,  dronish  disciple  !  You  ! 
before  whom  Christ  has  placed  the  sacred 
pledges  of  his  redeeming,  his  covenanting,  his 
unchanging  love !  w^ritten  upon  every  thing 
that  is,  or  has  been,  or  shall  be !  You  !  an 
heir  of  God  I  a  "joint  heir  with  Christ"!  an 
heir  of  "  all  things  "  !  You  !  only  yesterday  a 
beggar,  —  a  sinner,  —  an  heir  of  death,  —  a 
"  child  of  wrath  " !  to-day,  with  the  priceless 
legacy  of  Almighty  Grace  in  your  hand  !  "  Is 
this  the  kind  return,  are  these  the  thanks,  you 
owe?"  Back,  —  back,  —  again  I  say, — look 
back  to  your  nakedness  and  to  your  filthy 
state  before  your  adoption.  Compare  what 
you  were,  with  what  you  are  ;  your  hope  of 
to-day,  with  your  desert  of  damnation  yester- 
day ;  the  curse  of  your  spiritual  death,  with 
the  blessing  of  your  spiritual  resurrection  ;  the 
midnight  of  your  condemnation,  with  your 
present  morning  of  unclouded  grace  !  Does 
all  this  argue  for  a  partial  or  a  feeble  service 
of  your  Redeemer  ?  Is  all  this  a  plea  or  an 
apology  for  worldly-mindedness  ? 

No.     No.     In  the  name  of  grace^  —  in  the 


182  THE  believer's  wealth. 

name  of  that  grace  which  is  busy  for  you  ev- 
erywhere and  for  ever,  which  is  culturing  and 
culling  enjoyments  for  you  upon  every  spot 
where  God  reigneth,  —  in  the  name  of  your 
hope  and  your  inheritance,  —  I  adjure  you  be 
the  Lord's  wholly,  steadily,  cheerfully,  for  ever. 
This  is  your  duty.  This  is  the  argument  of 
the  precious  truth  before  you. 

But  give  him  more.  Praise  him.  Speak  of 
his  wondrous  grace.  Sing  of  his  boundless 
gifts.  Be  joyful  in  God,  all  ye  his  people ; 
and  let  your  joy  break  forth  into  songs.  Let 
the  harp  be  struck  to-day ;  for  the  dayspring 
of  your  salvation  has  already  come.  Let  his 
name  be  magnified  and  his  grace  be  pro- 
claimed by  all  who  are  the  Lord's.  Let  it  be 
done  openly,  loudly,  always.  O,  give  him 
this !  Surely  such  grace  has  claim  to  such 
return.  Surely  goodness  and  bounty  which 
go  out  without  limit  and  without  end  should 
be  sung  on  earth  as  well  as  in  heaven.  Praise 
the  Lord,  then,  before  all  people.  Let  all  men 
know  that  you  adore  him.  Never  let  a  blush 
be  found  upon  your  cheek  ;  never  let  a  denial 
come  up  to  pollute  your  lips  ;  when  you  are 
charged  with  belonging  to  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 
But  commend  him,  praise  him,  for  his  grace, 
for  his  bounty,  for  his  gifts  to  you,  —  a  sinner. 


THE    believer's    WEALTH.  183 

It  is  the  least  you  can  do,  to  praise  him  with 
your  lips,  to  praise  him  by  the  integrity  and 
holiness  of  your  life.  And  you  are  told  to  do 
it ;  told  to,  by  the  broad  and  sacred  and  solemn 
pledges  of  his  outbursting  love ;  told  to,  in  the 
very  words,  "  All  things  are  yoursP 

O,  look,  brother !  The  fulness  of  his  grace 
is  mirrored  to  you  everywhere  I  The  tokens 
of  his  love  are  sparkling  in  every  fountain  of 
your  earthly  relations.  They  are  warming  you 
and  gladdening  you  in  every  sunbeam.  They 
are  smiling  to  you  in  every  beauty  of  nature. 
They  are  beckoning  to  you  mutely,  but  elo- 
quently, in  every  twinkling  star  above  you. 
Perhaps  you  do  not  hear  and  see  to-day,  but 
you  will  hereafter.  Theyi  these  things,  and 
other  things,  and  "  all  things,"  will  come  up 
before  you  in  memory  or  by  revelation  ;  and 
they  will  make  heavenly  music,  each  and  all, 
in  proof  and  praise  of  your  Redeemer's  kind- 
ness. Out  of  every  event  shall  come  some- 
thing to  make  Mm  manifest,  and  to  make  you 
full  of  heavenly  rapture. 

Now,  then,  with  riches  pledged  to  you  in 
"all  things,"  —  with  all  the  treasures  of  your 
beloved  before  you  as  the  dowry  of  your  es- 
pousals, —  give  him  what  you  can  and  ought. 
Give  him  the  beautiful  offering  of  a  humble 


184  THE    believer's    WEALTH. 

spirit.    Give  him  constancy  in  love  and  service 
Give  him  open  praise. 

"  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow ; 
Praise  him,  all  creatures  here  below  ; 
Praise  him  above,  ye  heavenly  host,  — 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost." 


X. 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF    CHRIST'S   GRACE,— A 
DUTY. 

Every  thing  which  contributes  to  our  com- 
fort, whether  an  intrinsic  good,  or  merely  a 
preventive  of  evil,  is  of  grace.  Are  we  "  born 
of  God"  ?  Are  we  enjoying  the  various  privi- 
leges of  adoption  ?  Do  our  worldly  interests, 
the  institutions  of  the  Gospel,  or  more  direct 
Divine  influences,  suppress  the  fearful  tenden- 
cies of  our  unrenewed  hearts  ?  Are  we  cheered 
by  our  domestic  relations  ?  Are  we  fed,  and 
clothed,  and  sheltered  ?  Do  we  enjoy  health, 
and  light,  and  air,  and  ten  thousand  objects  of 
sense?  Is  there  any  thing — however  minute 
—  which  exempts  us  from  perfect  misery  ?  In 
each  and  all  these  things  we  receive  "  the  man- 
ifold grace  of  God."  To  draw  a  single  breath 
without  pain,  to  experience  the  meanest  sen- 
sation of  fleshly  delight,  is  as  truly  a  matter  of 
Divine  grace,  as  to  be  "  renewed  in  the  spirit 
of  our  minds." 

Having  sinned,  we  deserve  no  blessing.  Ev- 
ery blessing  which  we  do  receive  is  —  grace. 


186      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

Whether  it  be  spiritual  or  temporal ;  whether 
special  or  common  ;  whether  "great  or  trivial ; 
it  is  unmerited,  —  it  is  forfeited,  —  it  is  of 
grace.  Yet  it  is  commonly  understood  that 
grace  is  concerned  only  in  such  blessings  as 
regeneration,  sanctification,  salvation,  and  their 
several  accompaniments.  Men  who  talk  loud 
and  fervently  of  grace  in  these  things,  are  often 
blind  and  dumb  and  dead  to  it  as  displayed  in 
the  little  mercies  of  every  day.  They  can  see 
its  glory  in  the  cross,  but  do  not  detect  it  in 
the  flower,  in  the  dew,  in  the  hour  of  peaceful 
repose  or  social  fellowship.  To  some  it  would 
seem  frivolous,  if  not  profane,  to  apply  so  high 
an  attribute  of  God  to  the  painting  of  a  flower, 
to  the  music  of  a  bird,  or  to  the  texture  of  a 
garment.  Yet  it  is  wrong  to  confine  our  idea 
of  God's  grace  to  blessings  pertaining  to  the 
soul.  It  is  wrong ;  for,  if  it  was  grace  which 
shone  on  the  cross,  if  it  is  grace  which  is 
displayed  in  salvation,  then  it  is  grace  which 
shines  and  speaks,  and  calls  for  praise  in  all 
the  mercies  of  all  the  world. 

Men  readily  acknowledge  the  more  conspic- 
uous truths  of  the  Bible  as  articles  of  credence. 
They  recognize,  speculatively  at  least,  the  ho- 
liness and  supremacy  of  God.  The  believer 
in  Christ  apprehends  the  severity  and  justice 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.      187 

of  the  Law,  and  the  fulness  of  the  Redeemer, 
and  the  grace  and  glory  and  value  of  Redemp- 
tion,—  so  far,  at  least,  as  the  great  sacrifice  of 
atonement  is  concerned  ;  and  he  anticipates 
with  cheering  hope  the  heavenly  income  of 
that  Redemption.  But  where  do  you  find  a 
man,  even  among  the  most  devout,  who  has 
uncovered,  and  studied,  and  revelled  in,  this 
truth,  that  "  of  the  fulness  of  Jesus  Christ 
have  all  we  received,  and  grace  for  grace,"  i.  e. 
grace  upon  grace  ?  How  many  disciples  of 
Jesus  are  there  who  think  and  feel  that  they 
are  recipients  of  "his  fulness"  in  any  other 
way  than  as  joint  proprietors  of  atoning  blood, 
and  heirs  apparent  of  a  felicitous  inheritance  ? 
How  many  who  remember  and  feel  that  they 
receive  "  of  the  fulness "  of  their  Redeemer, 
that  they  pluck  and  eat  the  fruits  of  his  suffer- 
ings, that  they  are  gladdened  and  refreshed  by 
the  ministrations  of  his  hands,  every  day  and 
hour  and  moment  ?  How  many,  think  you, 
are  there  in  this  wide  world, — in  this  ran- 
somed world,  —  who  see  the  footprints  of  Jesus 
in  their  pathway  ?  who  catch  the  voice  of 
his  benediction  in  the  events  of  their  histories  ? 
who  discern  the  impress  of  his  hand,  and  the 
badges  of  his  love,  and  the  memorials  of  his 
baptism,  in  all  things  ? 

13 


188      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

Countless,  ceaseless,  are  the  gifts  of  his 
grace  to  all  the  tenants  of  this  world  of 
hope.  And  countless  are  the  gifts  of  his  grace 
which  are  taken,  and  enjoyed,  and  eagerly 
consumed,  without  a  thought  of  their  sacred- 
ness,  or  an  acknowledgment  of  their  source. 
They  are  rich.  They  are  profuse.  They  are 
omnipresent.  They  are,  as  it  were,  an  innu- 
merable company  of  angels,  declaring  his 
goodness,  unfolding  his  love,  and  chanting  his 
praises,  to  whose  voices  scarcely  an  ear  is 
turned  or  a  tongue  responds. 

Is  this  right  ?  Do  we  quit  ourselves  of  duty 
when  we  overlook  and  slight  an  evidence,  a 
fruit,  or  a  memorial  of  Redeeming  Love  ?  Is 
it  right  to  slight  the  testimony  of  Jesus  in  the 
Bible  ?  Is  it  right  to  disregard  the  fountain  of 
Redeeming  blood  ?  Is  it  right  to  turn  our 
backs  upon  the  sacramental  board  ?  Where, 
and  what,  is  the  gift  of  Christ,  —  where,  and 
what,  is  that  one  thing,  great  or  small,  which 
comes  to  us  in  his  name  and  from  his  hand, 
yet  deserves  no  recognition  as  a  token  of  his 
Love  ? 

Grace  through  Christ  is  our  choicest  treas- 
ure. It  is  a  sacred  treasure.  It  is  as  sacred 
in  the  eye  of  God  as  his  own  name,  and 
honor,  and  integrity.      And  while  he  watches 


THE  RECOGNITION  OP  CHRISt's  GRACE.      189 

with  jealousy  its  reception  by  us,  can  we 
meet  it  and  take  it  and  use  it  unmindful 
of  its  value  and  its  origin,  yet  do  no  wrong? 
We  have  no  more  right  to  draw  a  veil  over 
God's  most  glorious  attribute  when  displayed 
in  that  which  is  least,  than  when  displayed 
in  that  which  is  greatest.  We  have  no 
more  right  to  spurn  it  in  a  petty  providence, 
than  in  the  matchless  deed  of  Redemption. 
No  !  whatever  form  that  grace  may  assume, 
we.  are  bound  to  recognize  it ;  to  recognize  it 
as  the  grace  of  Christ.  Whether  it  be  reflected 
to  us  from  Sinai,  or  from  Calvary,  or  from  a 
thousand  inferior  things,  matters  nothing.  In 
any  kindness  which  God  shows  us,  we  ought 
to  detect  his  agency.  We  should  receive  such 
a  blessing,  —  no  matter  what  it  is,  —  feeling 
that  it  is  his  gift ;  feeling  that  it  is  undeserved, 
that,  being  undeserved,  it  is  a  gift  of  his  grace. 
Not  only  should  we  know  and  remember  that 
it  is  from  his  hand,  but  we  should  do  so  with 
emotion.  It  should  be  received  devoutly. 
While  we  detect  his  superscription  upon  it, 
we  should  do  so  with  filial  hearts.  We  should 
dehght  in  it,  not  so  much  for  the  gift's  sake  as 
for  the  Giver's  ;  not  so  much  in  the  blessing 
as  in  the  grace  of  the  blessing.  Let  us  enjoy 
it.    Let  us  be  ravished  with  it,  if  we  will.    But 


190      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

throvgh  the  blessing  let  us  discern  the  grace 

—  humbly,  heartily,  affectionately,  —  and  in 
the  grace  behold  the  image  of  the  Giver,  and 
trace  his  precious  care  and  love.     "  It  is  a  gift, 

—  a  gift  from  heaven,  —  a  gift  of  grace,"  — 
should  be  the  tribute  of  our  lips,  the  fervent 
acknowledgment  of  our  hearts.  Thus  should 
we  receive  the  gift ;  thus  recognize  the  grace. 

Bat  as  such  gifts  are  repeated,  our  recogni- 
tion of  grace  should  be  repeated.  We  should 
render  this  tribute  hahilualhj  ;  for  the  blessings 
of  to-day,  —  for  the  blessings  of  to-morrow, — 
for  the  blessings  of  yesterday.  If  grace  as- 
sume a  thousand  forms,  and  write  its  name 
upon  ten  thousand  objects,  —  then  a  thousand 
and  ten  thousand  times  should  we  perform 
this  duty.  Let  not  one  blessing  slip  by  with- 
out welcoming  it  in  the  name,  and  as  the 
gi'ace,  of  heaven.     Taste  not  a  cup  of  mercy, 

—  nay,  not  a  drop  thereof,  —  without  relishing 
the  love  and  the  grace  which  commingle  in  it. 
And  when  the  cap  is  drained,  when  the  gush 
of  enjoyment  is  over,  let  the  grateful  memory 
of  it  be  cherished.  If  we  would  fully  recog- 
nize the  grace  which  blesses  us,  we  must 
treasure  up  the  past ;  we  must  keep  a  cata- 
logue of  our  mercies  ;  we  must  hallow  that 
catalogue  in  our  hearts. 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.       191 

It  is  neither  fit  to  overlook  grace  as  it  passes 
before  us,  nor  to  forget  it  when  it  is  past. 

I  have  said  that  we  receive  grace  to  an  ex- 
tent coequal  with  our  blessings.  What,  then, 
are  our  blessings  ?  and  are  they  all  of  grace  ? 

There  are  blessings  peculiar  to  the  believer. 
Christian  brother,  —  you  love  God.  Yes  , 
though  that  love  be  faint  and  flickering,  yet  — 
if  your  name  be  not  a  false  one  —  you  love 
God.  But  have  you  always  loved  him  ?  No. 
But  a  little  while  ago  you  shut  your  heart 
against  him.  You  cringed  and  bowed  at  the 
altar  of  some  earthly  idol.  You  "  worshipped 
and  served  the  creature  more  than  the  Crea- 
tor." But  a  little  while  ago,  and  you  was  a 
doubter  of  God.  You  did  not  and  would  not 
confide  in  his  Word,  or  his  Sovereignty,  or 
his  dealings.  Your  feet  were  upon  his  statute- 
book.  Your  heart  was  full  of  evil.  You 
nursed  your  corruptions ;  and  they  grew.  You 
so  tutored  your  depravity  that  you  could 
quench  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  withstand  Redeem- 
ing Love.  But  the  veil  is  removed  from  your 
heart.  You  have  felt  the  infusion  of  a  new 
principle.  This  hatred  of  a  holy  God  has 
passed  away.     Your  lips   have  sung  praises, 


192    THE   RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's   GRACE. 

and  your  heart  has  melted  beneath  the  cross 
of  Christ.  Have  you  forgotten  the  love  of 
your  espousals  ?  Have  you,  forgotten  the 
wormwood  and  the  gall  ?  Have  you  forgot- 
ten your  deliverance  ? 

And  are  you,  pardoned  ?  Are  you  a  new 
creature  ?  Do  you  bear  the  image  of  God  ? 
Is  the  seal  of  Redemption  upon  your  soul  ? 
upon  yours,  where  but  yesterday  was  the  pe- 
culiar sin  of  despising  and  rejecting  Christ? 
Yesterday  greedy  for  husks,  and  chaff,  and 
vanity,  —  now  with  a  "hope  full  of  immortal- 
ity "  I  Yesterday  gazing,  with  idolatrous  de- 
light, upon  the  sparkling  frailties  which  will 
be  burned  up  to-morrow,  —  now  with  your  eye 
upon  a  crown  of  life !  Yesterday  a  "  child  of 
perdition,"  —  to-day  a  child  of  God !  Yester- 
day a  slave  of  sin,  —  now  an  heir  of  glory ! 

And  to  what  privileges  are  you  admitted? 
To  the  privilege  of  endearing  fellowship  with 
Christ;  of  communing  with  him  as  friend 
communeth  with  friend;  oi feeling  the  pres- 
ence and  sympathy  and  consolations  of  your 
best  beloved ;  of  thus  having  on  earth  a  fore- 
taste of  heaven.  To  the  privilege  of  that 
"  hope  which  is  as  an  anchor  to  the  soul."  To 
the  privilege  of  that  faith  which  is  Life  eter- 
nal.    To  the  privilege  of  "  the  peace  of  God 


THE  RECOGNITION   OF   CHRISt's  GRACE.    193 

which  passeth  all  understanding."  To  the 
privilege  of  sanctified  afflictions.  AU  these  are 
yours,  in  proportion  to  your  fidelity,  and  your 
intimacy  with  Christ. 

Precious,  precious  blessings !  fitted  to  the 
soul  I  to  its  helplessness,  —  its  pollution,  —  its 
wretchedness,  —  its  immortality  I 

How  came  they  yours  ?  Did  you  earn 
them  ?  Did  you  sow  their  seed  ?  Did  you 
break  up  the  soil  on  which  they  have  grown  ? 
Did  you  conquer  the  thorns  and  briers  which 
grew  in  riot  there  before?  No.  Your  seed 
was  the  teeth  of  dragons ;  and  the  harvest 
would  have  been  after  its  kind.  Well ;  how 
came  you  to  be  a  new  creature  ?  How  came 
such  a  one  as  you  were  to  love  God  ?  to  sit 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross  ?  to  taste  Redeem- 
ing love  ?  to  enjoy  the  privileges  consequent 
upon  spiritual  adoption  ?  Was  the  work 
yours?  No,  —  no.  Christ  wrought  it;  not 
you.  "  You  love  him  because  he  first  loved 
you."  "  You  did  not  choose  him,  but  he 
chose  you." 

Then  these  spiritual  blessings  are  gifts.  But 
were  they  merited?  Yes;  —  if  sin  merits 
blessings  ;  if  pollution  merits  the  fellowship 
and  embrace  of  purity ;  if  rebellion  merits  par- 
don ;    if  depravity  merits   heaven ;    then  you 


194    TPIE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

have   merited  the   privileges   and   heirship  of 
your  adoption. 

O,  look  at  the  comforts  of  a  believer  in 
^  Christ  I  See  them  in  all  their  forms  of  beauty. 
Behold  their  subduing,  heavenly  influences. 
Witness  their  effects  through  the  vicissitudes 
of  life  ;  through  the  conflict — that  victorious 
conflict  —  with  death.  Look  at  that  spiritual 
change  of  his,  by  which  he  is  introduced  to 
these  blessings.  Look  at  what  he  was,  —  at 
what  he  is..  Surely  they  are  not  deserved. 
Surely  they  are  not  earned.  Every  one  of 
them  is  of  grace.  In  germ,  in  bud,  in  blossom, 
in  ripeness,  in  bestowment,  in  enjoyment,  — 
they  are  each  and  all  and  altogether  —  grace. 

There  are  blessings  which  believers  and  un- 
believers receive  in  common. 

Suppose,  now,  there  w^ere  no  verdant  fields 
throughout  the  world  ;  and  no  flowers ;  and 
no  breath  of  wind  to  waft  their  fragrance ; 
and  no  pleasant  sounds  to  greet  our  ears. 
Suppose  the  sun  were  blotted  out ;  and  the 
moon  ;  and  the  stars.  Suppose  there  were  no 
form  of  beauty,  and  no  source  of  bodily  delight 
around  us.  Suppose  all  the  superfluities  of 
external  nature  were  sw^ept  away,  and  nothing 
left  to  us  but  the  mere  essentials  of  animal  ex- 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.     195 

istence.  Are  we  aware  how  much  enjoyment 
we  receive  from  the  myriads  of  objects  which 
address  our  senses  ?  Are  we  aware  how  a 
thousand  neglected  beauties,  and  ten  thousand 
unnoticed  springs  of  comfort,  are  silently  drop- 
ping their  contributions  of  kindness  upon  our 
hearts  ?  Rain,  and  sunshine,  and  pure  air, 
and  the  singing  of  birds,  and  the  beauty  of 
flowers,  and  the  mute  splendor  of  the  stars,  are 
little  thought  of.  But  men  who  have  been 
bereft  of  them  —  and  such  men  there  have 
been  —  have  thought  much  of  them;  and 
have  pined,  and  groaned,  and  cursed,  and 
died,  in  misery  for  the  want  of  them. 

But  this  is  only  one  department  of  our  tem- 
poral blessings.  There  is  our  table,  spread  to 
nourish  us.  There  is  our  raiment,  to  protect 
us.  There  are  our  dwellings,  to  shelter  us. 
There  are  our  fields  and  our  flocks  and  our 
herds,  our  silver  and  our  gold,  our  beds,  our 
friends,  our  nights  of  rest,  our  mornings  of  vigor 
and  health.  There  are  our  family  enjoyments; 
parental,  filial,  fraternal,  conjugal  affection  and 
sympathy  and  communion, —  with  their  un- 
numbered seasons  of  refreshing.  There  are  our 
providential  bounties,  of  endless  variety  and  of 
hourly  recurrence.  Are  all  these  things  trivial  ? 
Are  they  unworthy  to  be   mentioned?     Let 


196     THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

them  depart,  —  and  there  would  come  upon  you 
a  ni^ht  of  desolation  whose  darkness  would  be 
terrific.  A  blight  would  come  over  you  whose 
influence  defies  conception. 

Here,  then,  is  this  bounteous  furniture  of 
nature,  —  here  are  these  countless  ministra- 
tions of  providence,  —  showering  their  precious 
blessings  upon  us  with  the  revolution  of  every 
year  and  of  every  moment.  However  we 
may  have  labored  to  secure  them,  yet  we  know 
that  we  have  not  earned  them.  A  wind,  a 
breath,  the  slightest  accident,  might  defeat  the 
toil  and  labor  and  calculation  of  years.  We 
cannot  guaranty  to  ourselves  the  slightest 
blessing.  We  cannot  put  our  finger  on  a 
single  bounty  and  say,  —  "  It  is  ours.''^  No  ; 
they  are  gifts.  From  some  source  or  other,  — 
they  are  gifts. 

Are  they  by  right,  or  —  by  bounty  ?  Are 
they  by  right,  or — by  grace?  Why!  if  we 
have  an  angel's  purity ;  if  we  are  unsullied  by 
a  single  breath  of  sin  ;  if  not  a  thought  con- 
trary to  the  law  has  crept  over  our  hearts  ;  — 
then  they  are  by  right.  But  if  one  transgres- 
sion be  wi'itten  against  us,  then  they  are  of 
grace.  If  one  impure  wish  has  left  its  traces 
upon  our  souls,  —  it  was  the  forfeiture  of  all 
blessing. 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF   CHRISt's  GRACE.     197 

Need  I  tell  or  prove  our  demerit  ?  It  is 
written  on  our  consciences.  We  know  it. 
We  feel  it.  Then  I  need  not  argue  out  the 
grace  which  signalizes  our  blessings.  I  need 
only  say,  that  by  every  sin,  and  by  every  pollu- 
tion within  us,  the  grace  which  surrounds  us, 
which  sanctifies  the  various  good  things  of 
life,  is  enhanced.  And  if  the  grace  be  in- 
creased as  demerit  is  increased,  how  great, 
how  wondrous,  how  magnificent,  the  grace 
which  creates  and  gives  all  this  congregation 
of  mercies  ! 

But  there  are  also  blessings  peculiar  to  ui\ 
believers. 

They  are  beset  with  influences  whose  direct 
design  and  tendency  is  to  turn  them  from  the 
misery  and  emptiness  of  a  worldly  mind,  to 
the  peace  and  satisfaction  of  a  spiritual  mind  ; 
from  feverish,  discontented  unbelief,  to  health- 
ful, happy  faith.  Such  are  their  Bibles,  — 
their  Sabbaths,  — their  sanctuary  privileges, — 
the  strivings  of  the  Spirit  with  their  hearts. 
Tliese  are  the  Only  stars  of  hope  which  glim- 
mer upon  their  future  prospects.  If  these  pre- 
vail not  over  unbelief,  the  sinner  is  beyond 
help. 

But  more ;  that  unbelief  is  the  compreh^*j 


198      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

sive  element  of  utter  woe.  Joined  with  it,  — 
combined  with  it,  —  there  are  attributes  of 
character  and  faculties  of  soul  whose  full  de- 
velopment is  perfect  ruin.  Look  at  unbelief, 
—  that  spirit  of  distrust  toward  God,  that  dis- 
agreement with  God's  will,  that  chafing  dis- 
like of  his  government.  It  has  a  demoniac 
power.  It  has  power  to  scathe  the  soul  with 
unutterable  torments.  To-day,  —  it  only  mur- 
murs against  God.  It  is  only  a  little  restive 
when  the  Law  rebukes  it.  It  is  only  a  little 
fretful  when  it  feels  God's  sovereignty.  It  is 
only  slightly  moved  when  the  providence  of 
God  thwarts  its  plans  and  cuts  off  its  worldly 
hopes.  But  these  light  ripplings  of  unbelief 
mar  the  sinner's  peace.  And  if  these  mar 
his  peace,,  what,  —  what^  I  ask,  would  be  the 
spiritual  havoc  of  that  same  unbelief,  should  it 
reign  in  all  its  despotic  might  and  fury?  Let 
it  come  in  contact  with  the  will  of  God  at  ev- 
ery point ;  let  it  feel  the  supremacy  and  power 
of  God  at  every  turn  ;  let  it  cross  the  purposes 
of  God  at  every  moment  ;  let  it  contend 
against  the  plans  and  deeds  of  God  perpetu- 
ally and  with  all  its  niight ;  and  the  unbeliev- 
er's whole  experience  would  be  frenzy,  mad- 
ness, despair.  This  is  not  supposition  only. 
Unbelief — like  every  other  habit  of  the  soul, 


THE   RECOGNITION  OF   CHRISt's   GRACE.      199 

whether  good  or  bad  —  is  capable  of  indefinite 
progression  and  indefinite  power. 

Add  to  this  development  of  unbelief,  the 
power  of  a  guilty  conscience.  In  all  his  impo- 
tent conflicts  with  God's  will  and  might,  let 
the  unbeliever  see  God's  holiness  ;  let  him  feel 
that  God  is  right  and  he  is  wrong ;  let  him 
feel  that  all  his  history  has  been  black  with 
guilt  from  the  first  pulsation  of  his  unbelief 
onward,  —  and  here  are  a  thousand  stings 
darting  their  venom  upon  his  soul  perpetually, 
and  without  an  antidote. 

O,  there  are  fire  and  fuel  in  the  unbeliever's 
heart  which  only  a  breath  would  fan  into  a 
devouring  flame  ;  which  need  the  influence  of 
only  a  breath  to  consume  every  semblance  of 
enjoyment,  to  silence  every  profession  of  peace, 
to  lick  up  every  vestige  of  pride,  —  for  ever  I 

Such  are  the  unbeliever's  inbred  curses  ;  the 
elements  of  death  which  are  in  ambush  in  his 
heart.  But  what  are  his  blessings  ?  His 
blessings !  The  checks  ivhich  restrain  these 
curses.  Why  does  unbelief  now  work  so 
slightly?  TF7/7/ does  conscience  now  whisper 
so  gently  ?  They  are  held  back.  For  mercy's 
sake,  their  power  is  fettered.  They  straggle 
against  God,  they  war  against  the  sinner's 
peace,  as  much  as  tht'y  can.     They  urge  him 


200      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

as  near  to  perfect  depravity  and  to  perfect 
misery  as  they  can.  But  there  are  barriers 
around  them  which  they  cannot  overleap. 
These  barriers  alone  interpose  between  the 
unbeliever  and  despair. 

Who  has  raised  them  up  ?  The  sinner  ? 
No.  They  are  blessings.  They  are  gifts^  — 
put  there  by  some  one  who  knows  his  deprav- 
ity, and  desires  his  good,  and  dreads  his  mis- 
ery, more  than  the  unbeliever  does. 

O,  what  grace  is  restraining  grace  I  The 
only  separation-wall  between  unbelief  and  hell! 
All  the  influences  at  work  for  his  conver- 
sion, and  all  the  checks  upon  his  depravity, 
come  within  the  proper  catalogue  of  the  sin- 
ner's peculiar  blessings.  And  they  are  each 
and  all  of  grace.  The  very  stigma  of  his  un- 
belief joroyes  them  all  of  grace. 

To  what  extent,  then,  is  grace  dispensed  to 
us  in  our  present  state  ?  To  every  possible 
extent.  It  stretches  its  span,  and  diffuses  its 
gifts,  over  the  whole  field  of  our  existence. 
Grace  !  it  beams  in  every  blessing.  It  sparkles 
in  every  cup  of  delight.  It  sits  at  every  table. 
It  smiles,  in  every  family  of  love.  It  is  found 
in  every  spiritual  enjoyment.  It  adorns  every 
beauty  of  nature,  and  every  bounty  of  provi- 


THE  RECOGNITION   OF  CHRIST's  GRACE.      201 

deuce.  Its  signet-mark  is  on  the  Sabbath, 
and  on  every  Gospel  privilege.  And  its  strong 
seal  is  upon  every  impediment  of  unbelief.  It 
is  everywhere,  where  there  is  a  comfort  for 
the  human  heart,  or  an  abatement  of  human- 
sorrow. 

Then  it  should  be  recognized  —  everywhere. 
We  should  see  it,  and  praise  it,  and  enjoy  it, 
in  all  our  mercies  ;  on  every  hand  ;  at  every 
step  ;  in  every  hour. 

But  why  should  we  recognize  this  grace  as 
Christ's  ? 

Because  it  is  his.  Because  the  savor  of  his 
Love,  and  the  print  of  his  finger,  are  upon 
every  blessing. 

Who  is  their  source  ?  Whose  hand  arched 
the  heavens,  and  lit  their  lamps,  and  made  and 
clothed  the  world  ?  Who  filled  the  mines  of 
Nature  with  their  exhaustless  stores  ?  Do  you 
not  know  —  who  ?  He  who  "  was  in  the  be- 
ginning with  God.  All  things  were  made  by 
him ;  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing 
made  that  was  made."  He  who  "  was  made 
flesh  and  dwelt  among  us  full  of  grace  and 
truth." 

I  ask  again,  Who  is  Head  over  all  things  ? 
Christ  "  is   the    head    of  all   principality   and 


202      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

power."  He  "  is  gone  into  heaven,  and  is  on 
the  right  hand  of  God  ;  angels  and  authorities 
and  powers  being  made  subject  unto  him." 
"  All  things  are  under  his  feet."  "  All  things 
are  delivered  unto  him  of  the  Father."  It  is 
Jesus  Christ,  then,  who  controls  the  wheels  of 
Nature.  It  is  Jesus  Christ  who  arranges  all  our 
circumstances  in  life  ;  who  allots  to  us  prov- 
idences, spiritual  restraints,  spiritual  comforts. 
But  let  it  never,  never,  be  forgotten,  —  we 
are  sinners.  It  is  our  sin  which  makes  our 
blessings  —  grace.  From  our  first  sin  we 
were  obnoxious  to  punishment ;  we  were  de- 
serving'  of  nothing  else.  Justice  demanded 
—  righteously  demanded  —  curses  upon  our 
heads.  But  —  we  have  been  reprieved  from 
punishment.  Nay,  —  reprieve  is  not  all.  Re- 
prieve has  been  one  ceaseless,  bounteous  har- 
vest-season of  precious  mercies.  The  tender- 
ness of  Christ  has  not  had  reference  merely  to 
our  exposure  to  retribution.  He  has  grasped 
at  blessings,  too  ;  not  merely  at  a  blessing  here 
and  another  there,  but  at  blessings  for  us  all 
along ;  at  profusion  of  gifts  ;  at  the  best  of 
gifts.  Is  here  no  wrong  to  Justice  ?  Can  the 
Law,  and  government,  and  righteousness  of 
God  be  "  magnified  and  made  honorable,"  — 
can    his    character    be    without    blemish,  — 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.      203 

while  such  blessings  are  bestowed  upon  sin- 
ners ? 

Brother,  —  the  answer  is  in  the  cross  of 
Christ.  On  that  cross  was  made  a  sacrifice 
for  sin.  But  for  that  sacrifice,  Justice  must 
have  been  wronged  ;  God's  government  must 
have  been  impeached ;  his  character  must  have 
been  marred  ;  by  any  deed  of  kindness  towards 
us.  Consequently,  —  had  it  not  been  for 
Christ's  death,  the  anguish  of  his  soul,  the  bit- 
terness of  his  cup  ;  had  it  not  been  that  he  trod 
"  the  winepress  of  the  wrath  of  God,"  that  he 
was  "  wounded  for  our  transgressions  and 
bruised  for  our  iniquities," — not  a  deed  of 
mercy,  not  a  moment's  respite  from  wrath,  not 
an  hour  of  blessing,  not  a  beam  of  hope,  not  a 
smile  of  enjoyment,  could  have  been  given  us. 
Justice  must  have  cut  us  off,  not  only  from 
spiritual  blessing,  but  from  carnal ;  not  only 
from  fellowship  with  God  hereafter,  but  here  ; 
not  only  from  the  brightness  of  heaven,  but 
from  all  brightness,  all  cheerfulness,  all  sources 
of  enjoyment,  in  this  world. 

Has  Christ,  then,  made  all  things  which  are 
fitted  to  our  enjoyment,  and  which  we  do  en- 
joy from  day  to  day  ?  Has  he  the  sovereign 
control  of  all  things  which  are  made  ?  and  of 
us  ?  Has  he  the  management  of  every  wind, 
u 


204      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRIST  S   GRACE. 

and  the  dispensation  of  every  good  ?  Does  he 
give  us  life  and  breath  and  all  things  ?  Does 
he  cheer  the  believer  ?  Does  he  adorn  the 
world  around  us  ?  Does  he  give  with  his  own 
hand  every  providential  blessing  ?  Does  he 
restrain  the  depravity  of  unbelief?     Yes. 

But  where  gets  he  his  warrant  ?  Whence 
comes  his  right  ?  He  bought  it.  He  bought 
it  at  the  hand  of  Justice.  He  paid  for  it  a 
price,  —  the  highest  price  the  universe  could 
furnish.  It  was  not  silver.  It  was  not  gold. 
It  was  his  own  precious  blood.  It  was  "  his 
soul^  —  an  offering  for  sin." 

Brother,  —  the  cross  of  Christ  is  the  source 
of  our  blessings.  The  cross  of  Christ — is  the 
fountain-head  of  all  grace.  The  anguish  of  its 
Sacrifice  was  the  price  of  our  gifts. 

Well,  then  ;  the  impress  of  that  cross  is 
upon  every  good  thing.  The  gifts  of  Nature, 
of  Providence,  the  Bible,  the  Sabbath,  the 
Sanctuary,  the  privileges  of  adoption,  the  man- 
ifold checks  upon  depravity,  all  —  all  —  are 
the  purchases  of  Redemption.  Not  a  comfort 
do  you  enjoy  ;  not  a  moment  do  you  consume  ; 
not  a  form  of  beauty  do  you  behold  ;  not  a 
glow  of  health  do  you  feel ;  you  have  not  a 
night  of  rest,  not  a  day  of  brightness,  not  a 
child,  not  a  garment,  not  a  dollar ;  but  it  is  a 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF   CHRIST's  GRACE.      205 

memorial  of  Redeeming  Love.  The  name  of 
Christ,  —  the  love  of  Christ,  —  the  death  of 
Christ,  —  are  portrayed  before  you  everywhere. 
The  signet-mark  of  Redemption  is  on  your 
tables,  your  cups,  your  furniture,  your  door- 
posts, your  fireside,  your  harvests,  your  family 
fellowship. 

We  ought,  also,  to  recognize  as  ChrisVs  the 
grace  displayed  in  all  our  mercies  ;  because 
such  recognition  makes  all  things  our  ser- 
vants. 

It  makes  them  peculiarly  tributary  to  our 
enjoyment.  It  matters  not  how  slender  is  your 
purse,  how  mean  your  table,  or  how  humble 
your  home.  Look  upon  each  as  the  gift  of 
Christ ;  look  upon  each  as  better  than  you  de- 
serve ;  look  upon  each  as  procured  for  you  by 
the  high  price  of  atonement ;  look  upon  each 
as  a  memorial  of  Redeeming  Love  ;  look  upon 
each  as  a  mercy  for  which  praise  and  gratitude 
are  due,  and  feel  the  gratitude  and  speak  the 
praise  ;  and  every  individual  bounty  will  fill 
vour  heart  with  life.  You  will  welcome  home, 
and  food,  and  income,  not  for  their  own  sakes 
only,  but  because  they  bear  the  image  and 
superscription  of  Divine  affection,  of  Redeem 
ing  Grace. 


206      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

Have  you  not  something  in  your  possession 
which  is  associated  in  your  mind  with  the 
memory  of  an  absent,  or  a  departed  friend? 
Something  which  a  parent  gave  you  ?  or  a 
brother  ?  or  a  sister  ?  or  a  husband  ?  or  a 
wife  ?  I  ask  not  whether  it  be  a  fortune,  or  a 
trinket.  It  is  a  gift  of  aflfection.  It  is  a  me- 
morial of  one  who  is  gone.  Yes  ;  and  because 
it  is  a  memorial,  —  because  it  reminds  you  of 
the  kindness  and  the  virtues  of  one  whom  you 
esteem  and  love,  —  because  it  revives  that  par- 
ticular image  in  your  mind,  —  it  is  a  treasure. 
Be  it  a  diamond,  or  be  it  a  bawble,  it  is  a 
treasure  ;  it  is  a  source  of  enjoyment. 

Such  are  all  the  blessings  of  life  —  the 
greatest  and  the  least  alike  —  to  him  who, 
with  an  affectionate  heart,  recognizes  them  as 
the  gifts  of  Christ.  They  are  memorials  of 
your  Redeemer.  They  are  tokens  of  his  love. 
Look  upon  them  as  such,  —  welcome  them, 
prize  them,  as  such,  — suffer  them  to  remind 
you  of  his  grace,  of  his  unspeakable  love,  of 
his  "suffering  of  death,"  —  then  they  are 
doubly  precious  ;  precious  for  their  own  sakes, 
but  above  all  precious  for  his  sake.  They 
cheer  you  as  blessings  ;  but,  above  all,  as  re- 
viving in  your  heart  the  image  of  that  bound- 
less love  and  matchless  glory  which  reside  in 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.      207 

the  person  of  your  Redeemer.  You  cannot 
hut  rejoice  in  the  relish  of  every  fruit,  in  the 
beauty  of  every  flower,  in  the  dispensation  of 
every  good,  if  you  truly  perceive  therein  the 
grace  and  love  of  Christ.  In  your  home,  in 
your  table,  in  your  civil  institutions,  in  your 
garden,  in  your  field,  in  earth  and  sky,  in  day 
and  night,  in  the  Sabbath,*in  the  sanctuary, 
and  in  all  the  orderings  of  providence,  you  will 
have  sources  of  enjoyment  which  the  purblind 
worldling  knows  nothing  of.  All  these  things 
will  bestir  in  your  heart  those  fervent  emotions 
whose  very  exercise  is  happiness,  —  whose  jt?er- 
fect  exercise  is  heaven.  The  very  reverses 
and  bereavements  which  affect  you  will  oe 
channels  of  enjoyment,  for  you  will  perceiv^e 
how  they  are  attempered  by  grace ;  you  will 
feel  that,  with  all  their  sharpness,  they  are 
gentler  than  you  deserve,  and  are  made  so  by 
Redeeming  Love. 

I  envy  not  the  man  who  eats  up  the  bless- 
ings of  life  as  an  ox  does  the  grass  of  the 
field  ;  with  no  relish  beyond  that  c''  leir 
sweetness.  I  envy  not  the  man  who  tastes 
nothing  upon  his  table  but  food ;  who  sees 
nothing  in  the  stars  but  light,  and  nothing  in 
the  revolutions  of  providence  but  changes  of 
good  or  ill.     He  has  his  enjoyments,  to  be 


208      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

sure  ;  but  they  are  low,  and  narrow,  and  eva- 
nescent. But  enjoyments  such  as  he  gathers 
who  humbly  and  affectionately  detects  the  im- 
press of  a  Saviour's  grace,  and  hears  the  whis- 
perings of  a  Saviour's  love,  in  every  passing 
providence -and  in  every  object  of  nature,  I  do 
covet.  Such  are  the  enjoyments  of  heaven 
where  all  things  are  relished  only  as  inter- 
preters of  Christ ;  where  every  angel  and  ev- 
ery pavement  is  brilliant  only  because  "  the 
glory  of  God  doth  lighten  them,  and  the  Laynb 
is  the  light  thereof."  Such  enjoyments  may 
be  coveted  by  an  earthly  pilgrim. 

But  again,  this  recognition  of  Christ's  grace 
"makes  all  things  our  servants,"  because  it 
makes  all  things  fortify  us  against  temptation. 
There  is  no  object  of  sense  which  may  not 
seduce  us  to  sin.  Yet  the  power  resides  not 
in  the  object^  but  in  the  subject.  That  bless- 
ings and  beauties  are  mear.s  of  transgression, 
is  not  because  there  is  inherent  evil  in  them, 
but  because  the  heart  which  looks  upon  them 
is  in  an  evil  mood.  Correct  the  heart,  —  hold 
that  in  a  right  attitude  and  frame,  —  and  you 
dissipate  the  temptation. 

It  is  not  when  you  are  filled  with  a  devout 
perception  of  the  glory  of  Christ,  that  you  are 
excited  by  any  external  thing  to  murmuring, 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's   GRACE.      209 

or  envying,  or  anger,  or  fraud.  It  is  not  when 
your  heart  is  throbbing  in  gratitude  and  amaze- 
ment in  view  of  Redeeming  Love  ;  it  is  not 
when  you  are  studying  and  adoring  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  grace,  —  that  you  give 
place  to  error  of  heart  or  behavior.  It  is  when 
you  forget  these  things.  Read  them,  then, 
upon  all  things ;  make  all  things  mementos 
of  Christ ;  hear  their  testimony  of  his  love  ; 
detect  their  relation  to  his  cross  ;  do  this  habit- 
ually ;  make  the  Bible,  and  the  sanctuary,  and 
providence,  and  nature,  and  hardships,  and 
comforts,  things  high  and  things  low,  conduct 
your  thoughts  and  heart  to  Him  who  arranges 
them  all ;  look  upon  all  things,  and  all  events, 
as  parts  of  a  great  and  beauteous  temple 
which  He  has  reared,  and  wherein  He  dwells 
"  full  of.  grace  and  truth  "  ;  and  you  may  walk 
the  world  over  in  safety. 

Can  you  revile  him  who  reviles  you,  if  then 
that  very  wrong  reminds  you  of  the  grace  of 
Him  who  "  reviled  not  again "  ?  Can  you 
covet  your  neighbor's  goods,  and  overreach 
him  in  trade,  when  you  feel  that  Christ  makes 
you  to  differ,  and  that  Christ  has  given  you 
already  more  of  goods  than  you  deserve  ? 
Can  you  rail  at  a  wicked  man  if  his  wicked- 
ness wakes  you  to  a'  grateful  remembrance  of 


210      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRIST's  GRACE. 

One  who  died  alike  for  him  and  for  you? 
Can  yoa  misuse  your  property,  or  grudge  to 
use  it  for  good,  while  you  feel,  thankfully  and 
humbly,  that  you  hold  it  by  grace?  and  that 
it  is  a  product  of  Christ's  death  ?  Can  you 
murmur  and  repine,  that  you  have  only  a  cot- 
tage for  shelter,  and  only  a  crust  for  food,  while 
in  these  very  things  you  recognize  the  grace  of 
Christ  ? 

To  suppose  that  you  can  do  these  things,  is 
absurdity.  It  is  supposing  the  same  breath  to 
utter  blessing  and  cursing.  It  is  supposing 
the  same  feeling  to  be  good  and  evil. 

No,  brother  beloved,  —  so  far  as  you  de- 
voutly recognize  that  grace  which  character- 
izes all  the  mGrcies  of  life,  just  so  far  you  neu- 
tralize the  power  of  temptation.  And  if  you 
thus  recognize  it  everywhere  and  always,  you 
clear  your  path  of  snares  ;  so  far  as  it  affects 
you^  you  purge  the  vjhole  ivorld  of^  tempta- 
tion. 

But  yet  again ;  this  recognition  of  Christ's 
grace  "  makes  all  things  our  servants,"  because 
it  makes  all  things  tributary  to  our  perfection. 
The  Gospel  of  the  cross  is  "  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation."  The  "  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  " 
is  the  grand,  efficacious  means  by  which  sin- 
ners are  converted  and  sanctified.    And  though 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.     211 

the  preaching  of  the  Truth  stands  preeminent 
in  the  system  of  means,  yet  it  is  only  preemi- 
nent. In  whatsoever  way  the  truth  in  Christ 
is  shadowed  forth,  —  whether  in  baptism,  or 
the  Lord's  supper,  or  providence,  —  that  way 
is  adapted  to  fit  men  for  heaven.  And  in 
whatever  object  or  event  we  recognize  that 
truth  devoutly,  in  that  we  have  an  aid  to  sane- 
tification.  That  object,  and  that  event,  pro- 
mote our  holiness. 

Now,  then,  the  hand  of  Christ  is  in  every 
natural  object,  and  in  every  occurrence  of  life. 
In  each,  the  dying  love  of  Christ  is  concerned. 
Each  speaks,  then,  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  him. 
Each  brings  you  some  lesson  interpretative  of 
the  cross.  You  behold  the  object,  or  the  event, 
and  therein  you  also  behold  the  Truth.  You 
behold  it  devoutly,  teachably.  It  has  made  its 
impression  upon  you.  But  what  impression  ? 
It  has  wakened  you  to  holy  affections.  It  has 
given  impulse,  strength,  growth,  to  those  affec- 
tions. And  in  the  same  degree  it  has  weak- 
ened the  power  of  indwelling  sin.  In  other 
words,  —  by  recognizing  the  grace  of  Christ  in 
things  around  you,  you  have  made  them  vehi- 
cles of  Gospel  truth,  and  therefore  tributary 
to  your  ultimate  perfection. 

But   look  at  the  mode  of  this   operation. 


212     THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

You  sit  down  at  your  table  to  refresh  your 
body  with  the  bounty  of  Providence.  As  you 
receive  the  -gift,  —  as  you  consider  the  cheer- 
fuhiess  and  comfort  of  those  who  share  your 
board,  —  as  you  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  do- 
mestic fellowship,  —  you  remember  that  these 
comforts  are  the  gifts  of  Christ.  You  call  to 
mind  that  He  has  created  the  world  and  given 
it  its  increase ;  that  He,  overruling  every  event 
jpf  providence,  has  spread  that  table,  and  or- 
dained that  family  circle.  You  call  to  mind 
the  truth,  that,  had  not  He  interfered  in  your 
behalf  by  sacrifice,  by  blood,  that  hour  of  bless- 
ing would  never  have  been  your  allotment, 
that  therefore  it  is  of  grace  and  the  purchase 
of  his  Love.  Your  thoughts  and  your  heart 
go  up  from  the  gifts  to  the  Giver,  —  from  the 
things  purchased  to  the  price, — from  the  flesh- 
ly blessings  to  the  cross ;  and  thus  with  a 
spirit  of  fervent  Christian  gratitude  you  eat 
your  bread,  and  drink  your  cup,  and  enjoy 
your  social  board.  You  have  met  Christ  there. 
And  the  blessings  before  you  have  not  been 
refreshment  for  the  body  merely,  but  for  the 
soul.  Recognizing  the  grace  of  Christ  there, 
your  heart  has  been  impelled  to  heavenly 
emotions.  You  have  been  quickened  in  Di- 
vine life.     You  have  been  made  to   advance 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRIST's  GRACE.     213 

toward  the  fulness  of  the  stature  of  perfection 
in  Christ. 

Use  any  other  blessing  in  the  same  way, 
and  the  same  influence  is  experienced.  Use 
all  things  in  the  same  way,  and  all  things  be- 
come tributary  to  your  spotless  resemblance 
to  God. 

But  we  ought  also  to  recognize  as  Chrisfs 
the  grace  displayed  in  all  our  mercies,  because 
if  we  do  not,  we  sin. 

Whether  God  speak  to  us,  as  to  his  people 
bf  old,  by  an  audible  voice,  or  in  the  silent 
language  of  the  written  Word,  if  we  do  not 
hear  and  heed  and  revere  the  voice,  we  sin. 
Whether  he  display  himself  by  the  visible 
symbol  of  the  Shekinah,  or  by  the  visible 
glory  of  the  natural  heavens,  if  we  do  not 
reverently  recognize  that  memorial  of  God,  we 
sin.  The  Law  is — God's.  The  heavens  are 
—  God's.  The  world  and  the  fulness  thereof 
are —  God's.  They  speak  in  His  name.  They 
declare  His  glory.  "  In  Christ's  stead,"  they 
call  upon  us  to  respond,  joyously  and  reverently, 
to  their  declarations.  If  we  shut  the  ear,  and 
lock  up  the  heart,  and  give  back  no  response  ; 
if  we  overlook  this  testimony  of  Christ ;  we 
trifle  with  his  messengers  and  lightly  esteem 
his  glory. 


214      THE  RECOGNITION  OF   CHRISt's   GRACE. 

"Were  we  to  pass  through  a  host  of  angels, 
every  one  of  whom  had  some  different  thing 
to  say  about  the  power  and  wisdom  and  holi- 
ness of  "God  in  Christ";  and  should  we 
simply  scan  their  forms  and  graces  and  vest- 
ments, but  give  no  heed  to  their  words,  —  sure- 
ly we  should  sin ;  we  should  despise  the  reve- 
lation of  Divine  glory.  But  what  matters  it 
whether  we  pass  thus  listless  and  careless 
through  a  throng  of  preaching  angels,  such  as 
bow  and  praise  in  heaven,  or  through  a  throng 
of  angels,  such  as  preach  to  us  in  the  Word, 
in  Providence,  in  Nature  ?  What  matters  it* 
how  Christ  is  preached  ?  What  matters  it  by 
whom  ?  (Philipp.  i.  18.)  If  we  spurn  the 
sermon,  do  we  not  spurn  the  testimony  ?  And 
if  we  spurn  the  testimony  of  Jesus,  do  we  not 
sin? 

But  we  were  speaking  of  the  grace  of 
Christ.  Now  if  it  be  a  sin  to  overlook  a  mani- 
festation of  his  power,  or  his  holiness,  or  his 
wisdom,  or  his  justice,  much  more  is  it  a  sin 
to  treat  lightly  a  manifestation  of  his  grace. 
Grace  is  his  highest  glory.  Grace  is  his  most 
sacred  attribute.  Grace  is  the  attribute  in 
which  all  his  other  attributes  converge.  And 
when  we  look  sleepily  upon  any  memorial  of 
his  grace^  we  contemn  the  whole  assemblage  of 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.    215 

his  glories.  If,  then,  we  overlook  the  grace  of 
Christ  as  displayed  in  His  common  mercies, 
we  do  so  at  our  peril ;  we  incur  a  fearful  guilt. 
But  more ;  if  we  overlook  the  grace  of 
Christ  as  displayed  in  our  mercies,  "we  sin  " 
by  putting  the  mercy  in  the  place  of  the  Giver. 
You  sit  down  and  enjoy  food  and  raiment 
and  home  and  wealth  and  friends.  You  walk 
abroad  cheered  by  the  light  of  the  sun,  refresh- 
ed by  the  air  of  heaven,  delighted  by  the  fruits 
and  flowers  of  the  garden,  or  by  the  sparkling 
glories  of  an  evening  sky.  You  enjoy  these 
things,  but  do  not  enjoy  the  grace  which  they 
portray.  You  open  your  heart  to  them,  but 
not  to  their  Creator  and  gracious  Giver.  You 
delight  in  them,  but  not  as  the  gifts  and  me- 
morials of  grace.  Yes,  —  and  thereby  you 
have  installed  the  creature  in  the  sanctuary  of 
your  affections,  and  have  shut  out  the  Creator. 
You  have  burned  your  incense  upon  the  altar 
of  the  world,  and  withholden  it  from  the  altar 
of  the  Lord.  You  have  embraced  and  appro- 
priated, enjoyed  and  consumed,  the  blessing; 
unmindful,  neglectful,  of  the  Giver.  The  out- 
goings of  your  heart  have  stopped  at  the  very 
point  whence  they  should  have  risen  up  to 
Christ.  The  blessing  is  substituted  for  the 
Benefactor ;   the  creature,  for  its  Maker ;   the 


216    THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE, 

world,  for  God.  The  token  of  grace  is  cow* 
verted  into  an  idol.  The  sanctuary  of  your 
heart  —  where  Christ  ought  to  be  —  is  pol- 
luted and  desecrated.  He  is  rifled  of  his  dues, 
by  the  godle»s,  graceless  welcome  which  you 
have  lavished  on  his  bounty. 

Bat  this  is  not  all.  If  you  overlook  his 
grace  in  your  mercies,  you  pervert  it.  Those 
mercies,  as  the  fruits  of  his  grace,  have  their 
specific  errand  and  design  over  and  above 
your  sensual  comfort.  They  are  not  ordained 
and  dispensed  for  the  flesh  merely.  They  are 
designed  and  fitted  to  be  clews  to  the  grace 
which  they  embody.  They  are  intended  as  so 
many  mediums  of  intercourse  between  your- 
self and  your  Redeemer;  as  so  many  ladders 
by  which  you  should  climb,  as  it  were,  to 
heaven  ;  as  so  many  telescopes  through  which 
you  should  spy  out  the  manifold  glory  of 
Christ.  They  come  to  preach  to  you  the  Gospel. 
They  come  to  remind  you  of  the  cross.  They 
come  as  pledges  of  Redeeming  Love.  They 
come  as  remembrancers  of  Him  who  loved  you 
before  the  world  was.  They  come  so  to 
quicken  your  heart  to  love  and  devotion,  so  to 
attune  it  to  grateful  praise,  that  it  shall  be 
fitted  for  the  harmony  of  heaven.  Overlook 
their  g-race,  —  pass  them  by,  just  as  though 


THE  RECOGNITION   OF   CHRISt's   GRACE.    217 

they  had  nothing  to  say  or  to  show  of  Christ, 
—  meet  them  just  as  though  they  were  not 
the  fruits  of  a  Redeemer's  sufferings,  —  and 
what  do  you  do  ?  You  use  grace  as  a  tool 
for  sin.  You  do  not  pass  its  blessings  by. 
You  do  not  simply  let  alone  its  monumental 
mercies.  You  pervert  them.  You  take  that 
which  was  meant  for  your  spiritual  good,  and 
make  it  an  instrument  of  spiritual  pollution. 
The  vessels  of  the  Lord's  temple  are  profaned 
at  the  altar  of  idolatry. 

Are  you  afraid  to  come  to  .the  sacramental 
table  because,  if  you  "  eat  and  drink  not  dis- 
cerning the  Lord's  body,"  i.  e.  not  recogniz- 
ing his  grace  in  Redemption,  "  you  eat  and 
drink  damnation  to  yourself"  ?  Brother,  if 
you  discern  not  his  redeeming  grace  in  your 
common  blessings^  you  eat  and  drink  damna- 
tion (condemnation,  judgment)  to  yourself. 
The  beauties  of  the  external  world  and  the 
events  of  providence  are  as  truly  memorials  of 
a  crucified  Redeemer,  as  the  sacramental  bread 
and  wine.  These  are  special  memorials  ;  those 
are  common.  These  are  typical  of  atonement 
itself;  those  dixe  products  of  atonement.  This 
is  the  only  difference.  All  are  designed  as 
remembrances  of  the  grace  of  Christ.  To  be 
blind  to  his  grace  in  one  thing  is  as  verily  a 
gin,  as  tq  be  blind  to  it  in  any  other  thing. 


218    THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE. 

Behold,  then,  the  reasons  for  a  grateful, 
humble,  hearty  recognition  of  the  grace  of 
Christ  in  the  common  things  and  common 
events  of  life. 

Every  blessing  is  his  gift ;  for  he  made  and 
distributes  all. 

Every  blessing  has  been  bought  for  you  — 
at  the  cost  of  his  crucifixion. 

To  be  alive  to  their  testimony  will  make 
them  fountains  of  heaven-like  enjoyment. 

It  will  shield  you  against  sin. 

It  will  make  every  mercy  of  life  tributary  to 
your  sanctification. 

If  you  recognize  not  the  grace  of  Christ  in 
your  blessings,  you  sin  ;  you  sin,  by  lightly 
esteeming  that  grace ;  you  sin,  by  making  the 
blessings  of  grace  your  gods ;  you  sin,  by 
wresting  grace  to  your  own  destruction.  ^ 

My  dear  brother,  —  you  are  not  a  hrvte. 
Brutish  enjoyments  are  not  enough  for  you. 
You  want  those  which  are  fitted  to  your  soul. 
You  need  all  possible  consolations  in  such  a 
world  as  this.  Yoa  have  sins  enough  already, 
and  need  every  possible  safeguard  against  new 
sins.  You  have  corruptions  enough  already, 
and  need  every  possible  help  to  sanctification. 
I  beseech  you,  then,  look  not  upon  the  world 


THE   RECOGNITION   OF  CHRISt's   GRACE.      219 

and  the  things  of  the  world  as  a  brute  does 
Reckon  not  the  enjoyments  which  are  spiritual 
by  the  scale  of  a  brutish  judgment.  Weigh 
not  the  pollutions  of  your  heart  in  the  balances 
of  the  flesh.  But  —  with  all  the  energy  and 
earnestness  of  an  immortal  spirit,  roused  to  a 
sense  of  its  perils  and  its  wants  —  search  out 
the  fountains  of  spiritual  blessing,  and  the  pre- 
ventives of  spiritual  evil,  whiclj  everywhere 
abound. 

"  Of  Christ's  fulness  have  all  we  received, 
and  grace  upon  gi-ace."  His  grace  is  every- 
where ;  in  the  Bible  ;  in  the  Sabbath  ;  in  the 
sanctuary  ;  in  the  sacraments  ;  in  prayer ;  in 
the  events  of  your  life  ;  in  all  the  monuments 
of  his  power  and  skill  and  goodness  which  are 
around  you.  Go  to  every  one  for  instruction. 
Go  to  every  one,  hungering  and  thirsting  for 
spiritual  bread  and  for  living  water.  Go  and 
unlock  every  casket  of  Divine  glory.  Go  and 
search  out,  and  recognize,  and  adore,  the 
matchless  grace  of  your  Redeemer,  wherever  it 
is  displayed.  Pass  no  mercy  and  no  beauty 
by,  as  though  it  were  dumb  and  barren.  Ev- 
ery one  has  its  testimony  of  Jesus.  And  if 
you  will  but  open  your  eye  and  your  heart  to 
all  the  disclosures  of  his  grace,  you  will  find 
all  the  world  a  book  of  revelation.     You  will 

15 


220      THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRIST's  GRACE. 

find  all  Nature  and  all  Providence  chanting 
one  perpetual  anthem  to  his  praise.  You  will 
find  the  universe  an  orchestra  where  ten  thou- 
sand thousand  tongues  are  singing  of  the 
wonders  of  the  cross,  and  of  the  riches  of  its 
grace. 

And  if  you  devoutly  recognize  their  speech, 
if  you  give  daily,  hearty  heed  to  their  varied 
testimony,  you  will  make  the  world  your  ser- 
vant,—  you  will  make  temptation  your  cap- 
tive, —  you  will  make  the  "  forlorn-hope "  of 
Satan  a  ministering  angel  to  your  soul. 

But  if  you  slight  the  revelation  of  your  Sav- 
iour's grace  which  is  brought  to  you  in  your 
daily  mercies,  —  if  you  walk  through  this  vast 
storehouse  of  his  memorial  gifts,  unmoved  by 
their  testimony,  —  you  must  meet  hereafter  a 
condemning  witness  in  every  individual  bless- 
ing. And  when  those  witnesses  tell  how  they 
appealed  to  you  in  vain,  —  how  they  could 
never  touch  your  heart  by  their  display  of 
grace,  —  then  will  the  Judge  say,  with  fearful 
emphasis,  and  with  fearful  justice,  too,  —  "I 
have  called,  but  you  have  refused.  I  have 
stretched  out  my  hand,  but  you  have  not  re- 
garded. Therefore  I  laugh  at  your  calamity  ; 
I  mock  when  your  fear  cometh."  And,  in  the 
light  of  such  testimony,   of  all  the  universe 


THE  RECOGNITION  OF  CHRISt's  GRACE.      221 

who  bear  Christ's  image,  none  will  gainsay 
the  sentence  ;  but  every  lip  will  cry,  and  every 
heart  will  echo  back,  —  "  Amen  and  Amen  I " 

O,  then  recognize  grace  in  all  things  !  in 
every  star,  and  flower,  and  sunbeam  ;  in  every 
portion  of  bread ;  in  every  cruse  of  water. 
And,  O,  recognize  their  grace  as  Christ^ s  I  as 
the  product  of  his  power ;  as  the  gift  of  his 
hand ;  as  the  pledge  of  his  love  ;  as  the  pur- 
chase of  his  sufferings.  Do  not  wali^  blindfold 
through  this  living  host  of  Christ's  witnesses. 
Do  not  hurry  through  these  omnipresent  me- 
morials of  Redeeming  Love,  —  these  dear- 
bought,  hard-earned,  sacred  memorials  of  Re- 
deeming Love,  —  with  your  ear  deaf  to  their 
testimony,  and  your  heart  senseless  to  their 
appeals  ;  for,  as  the  light  of  the  sun  in  the  fir- 
mament doth  gild  and  beautify  every  object 
in  Nature,  so  do  the  power  and  operation  of 
Christ  —  the  light,  and  love,  and  overflowing 
grace  of  his  cross  —  beam  from  the  most 
trivial  events  of  our  lives. 


XI. 

THE  BELIEVER'S   DEBT  TO   CHRIST. 

I  KNOW  not  where  or  when  we  can  stop,  in 
numbering  the  glories  of  our  Redeemer.  I 
know  not  where  or  when  we  can  stop  in  sur- 
veying the  riches  of  his  grace.  I  know  not 
where  or  when  we  can  stop  in  counting  the 
number  of  his  tender  mercies,  or  in  measuring 
the  depths  of  his  Love.  I  know  not  where  or 
when  we  could  stop,  were  we  simply  to  un- 
dertake to  show  what  he  has  done  for  those 
whom  he  has  chosen  out  of  the  world.  We 
need  the  noonday  revelations  of  hereafter  ;  we 
need  to  stand,  with  quickened  vision,  before 
the  very  Throne ;  we  need  to  behold,  face  to 
face,  eye  to  eye,  the  glory  of  Him  who  sitteth 
thereon  ;  we  need  to  behold  and  understand 
the  sinfulness  of  sin,  the  pureness,  the  kind- 
ness, and  the  curse  of  the  Law ;  we  need  to 
learn  the  mixture  of  that  "  cup  of  the  wine- 
press of  the  wrath  of  God  "  ;  we  need  to  read 
the  histories  of  those  who  shall  be  saved  ;  — 
before  we  can  have  surveyed  the  outlines  of 
His  grace  toward  them.     We  want  Eternity 


THE    believer's    DEBT.  223 

to  tell  the  story,  to  describe  the  grace,  and  to 
utter  equal  praise. 

Yes,  brethren  in  Christ  Jesus,  —  ye  who 
were  sometime  without  Christ,  "  strangers 
from  the  covenants  of  promise,  having  no 
hope,  without  God,  who  were  far  off  but  now 
are  made  nigh  by  the  blood  of  Christ,"  —  in 
counting  and  describing  what  he  has  done  for 
youj  you  might  go  on,  and  go  on,  from  point 
to  point,  from  view  to  view,  from  wonder  to 
wonder,  from  praise  to  praise,  and  your  theme 
would  never  fail ;  its  beauties,  its  glories,  its 
wonders,  would  never — never  —  never  fade. 

Come,  then,  and  let  us  look  at  our  personal 
obligations  to  Christ.  You  are  in  debt  to  him. 
You  are  indebted  to  him  for  many,  for  pecu- 
liar, for  precious  blessings ;  indebted  to  him 
for  more  than  they  who  have  not  obtained  like 
precious  faith  with  you  ;  indebted  to  him  for 
distinguishing  and  inestimable  favors.  We 
cannot  weigh,  and  understand,  their  multitude 
or  magnitude.  But  do  let  us  look;  do  let  us 
meditate;  do  let  us  revolve  those  favors;  do 
let  us  stand  under  the  light  of  his  loving-kind- 
nesses ;  till  our  sluggish  hearts  beat  once  more 
with  the  fervor  of  our  first  love,  with  the  sub- 
dued emotions  of  the  day  of  our  espousals. 

For  what  are  you  indebted  to  Christ  ?     For 


224  THE  believer's  debt. 

what  are  you  indebted  to  him  as  a  believer  ? 
How  are  you  indebted  to  him  more  than  they 
who  believe  not  ?  Their  obligations  to  him 
are  beyond  estimate ;  but  yours  are  yet  greater. 
Theirs  are  such,  that  every  moment's  refusal 
to  praise  and  serve  him  is  fearful  sin  ;  but 
yoars  are  more  and  greater. 

You  are  indebted  to  Christ  for  Redemption. 
"  He  is  the  Saviour  of  all  men  ;  specially  of 
them  that  believe."  His  sacrifice  was  suffi- 
cient for  all ;  and,  in  many  precious  ways, 
available  to  all ;  but  it  is  efficacious  —  spiritu- 
ally, savingly  efficacious  —  in  you.  It  was  for 
you  "  especially  "  that  he  left  his  glory.  It  was 
for  you  "  especially  "  that  he  was  despised  and 
rejected.  It  was  for  you  "  especially"  that  he 
entered  into  covenant  with  the  Father.  It 
was  for  you  as  a  sinner.  It  was  for  you  as  a 
violator  of  his  Law.  It  was  for  you  as  an 
enemy  of  God.  It  was  for  you  as  one  who 
could  neither  make  nor  procure  a  recompense 
for  your  transgressions.  But  for  his  sacrifice 
there  never  could  have  been  reconciliation  be- 
tween you  and  God.  But  for  his  sacrifice 
there  never  could  have  been  a  respite  for  you 
from  the  curse  of  the  Law.  But  for  his  sacri- 
fice there  never  could  have  been  a  hiding-place 
for  your  soul,  or  a  fountain  for  the  liquidation 


THE    believer's    DEBT.  225 

of  your  guilt.  But  for  his  sacrifice,  your  doom 
would  have  been  sealed,  your  perdition  would 
have  been  sure.  There  was  no  price,  else- 
where, sufficient  for  your  salvation.  He  came 
and  made  his  sacrifice  —  for  whom?  For 
you.  He  came  and  paid  the  price — for 
whom  ?  For  you  ;  for  you,  luho  believe.  Just 
before  he  gave  himself  to  death,  he  consecrated 
himself  by  prayer  as  the  Lamb  of  God.  He 
consecrated  himself — for  you.  "  Father,"  said 
he,  "  neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for 
them  also  who  shall  believe  on  me  through 
their  word."  And  with  your  name  upon  the 
charter  of  Redemption  ;  with  your  future  faith 
full  before  his  view  ;  pointing  the  Father 
"  specially  "  to  the  terrible  record  which  would 
be  made  of  your  sins  ;  with  the  precious  and 
solemn  prayer  for  your  soul  upon  his  lips  ;  — 
he  went  away  to  the  garden  ;  he  went  out  and 
trod  the  winepress  ;  he  went  forth  to  shame,  — 
to  death,  —  to  sacrifice. 

O,  yes  I  you  were  in  his  eye,  my  believing 
brother.  You  were  in  his  eye  ;  you  were  on  his 
heart,  —  in  that  night  of  terror,  —  in  that  hall 
of  judgment,  —  in  that  hour  when  God  for- 
sook him.  He  bore  your  griefs.  He  carried 
your  sorrou'^s.  He  was  wounded  for  your 
transgressions.     He  was  bruised  for  your  in- 


226  THE  believer's  debt. 

iquities.  He  was  buffeted,  —  it  was  "  specially  " 
iox  you.  He  was  mocked,  —  it  was  "  special- 
ly" for  you.  He  was  reviled  in  the  hour  of  his 
crucifixion,  —  it  was  "  specially  "  for  you.  His 
soul  was  darkened,  and  stricken,  and  desolate, 
and  crushed.  The  cry  went  forth  from  the 
Throne  of  thrones,  "  Awake,  O  sword  !  against 
my  Shepherd,  against  the  man  that  is  my  fel- 
low ! "  And  the  response  went  up  from  the 
cross,  "  My  God  !  my  God  I "  And  the  blow 
was  struck  ;  the  blood  was  poured  out ;  the 
sacrifice  was  made  ;  and  all,  and  each  and 
every  part,  —  each  drop  of  blood,  —  each  cry, 

—  each    stripe,  —  was  specially  —  "  specially  " 

—  for  you. 

He  made  a  sure  provision  for  your  pardon. 
He  ^^ finished  the  work  which  was  given  him 
to  do."  The  Redemption  was  full.  The  price 
was  enough.  The  Sacrifice  was  perfect ;  with- 
out spot,  —  without  blemish.  When  he  suf- 
fered and  shed  his  blood,  with  you  in  his  eye, 
with  your  name  upon  his  lip,  with  your  sins 
upon  his  soul,  he  effected  Redemption.  He 
laid  the  only  possible  foundation  for  your  sal- 
vation ;  and  he  laid  it  broad,  and  deep,  and 
sure.  It  was  done  for  you  expressly,  and  it 
was  enough  for  you  fully. 

Estimate,  now,  the  preciousness  of  the-  soul, 


227 

the  greatness  of  your  sins,  the  worth  and  the 
price  of  your  redemption.  Then,  and  not  till 
then,  can  you  estimate  your  debt  to  Christ  for 
his  suffering  of  death.  Ye  are  redeemed  !  Ye 
are  redeemed  !  But  know  ye,  —  remember  ye, 
— "  ye  were    not    redeemed    with    corruptible 

things,  as  silver  and  gold, but  with  the 

precious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without 

blemish   and  without   spot, manifest 

for  you   who   by   him   do    believe   in 

God." 

Here  is  something  more  than  you  can  weigh. 
Yet  this  is  only  a  part  of  your  indebtedness  to 
Christ. 

You  are  indebted  to  him  for  personal  grace. 
What  is  this  personal  grace  ?  Look  and  see. 
You  did  not  choose  Christ,  but  he  chose  you. 
The  work  of  grace  which  has  been  wrought  in 
you,  he  has  wrought ;  he  t'o  whom  "  all  things 
are  delivered  of  the  Father." 

You  were  a  wanderer  from  God,  and  he 
sought  you.  Y^ou  were  a  stranger,  and  he 
found  you.  You  were  a  sinner,  and  he  hedged 
you  about  with  the  means  of  grace.  Y^ou 
were  a  cumberer  of  the  ground,  ready  and  fit 
to  be  cut  down  ;  he  plead  for  you,  and  cultured 
you.     You  were  perverse,  but  he  would  no\ 


228  THE  believer's  debt. 

give  you  up.  You  were  in  all  the  filth  of  un- 
purged,  unwashen,  accumulated  iniquity,  but 
he  would  not  pass  you  by.  He  came  and 
pursued  you,  and  beset  you,  and  wrought 
upon  you,  and  wrought  in  you  by  his  Spirit. 

Christian  brethren,  whence  are  ye  brought  ? 
Whither  are  ye  brought  ?  What  change 
has  been  made  in  you  ?  in  your  condition  ? 
in  your  prospects  ?  Where  were  you  once  ? 
What  were  you  ?  Where  are  you  now  ? 
and  what  are  you  ?  Why  !  you  "  were  far 
off"  from  God  ;  "  alienated  and  enemies 
in  3^our  mind  by  wicked  works " ;  now  "  ye 
are  made  nigh."  You  were  polluted,  —  you 
were  polluted  in  every  member  and  in  ev- 
ery thought,  —  there  was  no  good  thing  in 
you  ;  you  were  under  condemation.  "  But  ye 
are  washed,  ye  are  sanctified,  ye  are  justified 
in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  by 
the  Spirit  of  our  God."  Ye  "  were  children  of 
wrath  even  as  others  "  ;  but  now  are  ye  "  chil- 
dren of  the  living  God"  ;  children  of  his  dear 
love.  Ye  were  heirs  of  perdition  ;  but  now 
are  ye  "joint  heirs  with  Christ."  Ye  were 
poor  bond-slaves,  sold  under  sin  ;  but  now  are 
ye  "  the  Lord's  freemen."  -  Ye  were  "  in  the 
gall  of  bitterness  "  ;  but  now  ye  drink  of  the 
waters  of  the  river  of  life.     Ye  were  "  like  the 


229 

troubled  sea  when  it  cannot  rest "  ;  but  now 
ye  have  been  made  to  taste  of  peace.  Ye 
were  rushing  onwards,  blinded  and  deceived, 
in  the  road  to  the  second  death  ;  but  now  ye 
are  with  your  faces  heavenward.  You  were 
upon  the  very  brink  of  destruction,  your  "  feet 
were  upon  slippery  places  "  ;  but  now  you  are 
upon  a  Rock  of  Safety,  you  are  beneath  a 
Refuge  of  Almighty  Love.  There  was  no 
bond  of  union,  no  oath  of  betrothal  (Hos.  ii. 
19)  between  you  and  God  ;  but  now,  from  his 
love  and  care  and  covenant,  "  neither  death, 
nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor 
powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come, 
nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  you." 

You  were  poor.  You  had  no  surety  of  a 
single  blessing.  Your  treasures  were  moth- 
eaten.  The  things  which  you  loved  most 
were  taking  to  themselves  wings.  But  now 
"  all  things  are  yours  ;  whether  Paul,  or  Apol- 
los,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or  death, 
or  things  present,  or  things  to  come  ;  all  are 
yours,  and  ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's." 

What  is  there  which  is  evil,  and  fearful,  and 
accursing,  which  did  not  pertain  to  you  ? 
What  is  there  which  is  good  and  precious, 
which  is  not  now  secured  to  you  ? 


230  THE  believer's  debt. 

What  has  been  wrought  in  you  ?  What  has 
been  wrought  for  you  ?  Resurrection  !  spirit- 
ual resurrection  I  Whence  —  whither  —  have 
ye  been  brought  ?  "  From  darkness  to  light"  ! 
From  bondage  to  liberty  !  From  beggary  to 
riches  !  From  death  to  life !  "  From  the 
power  of  Satan  unto  God  "  ! 

And  it  is  Chrisfs  work.  It  is  all  his  work. 
It  is  his  work,  because  he  laid  the  foundation 
for  it  in  his  blood.  It  is  his  work,  because  he 
covenanted  with  the  Father /or  you.  It  is  his 
work,  because  he  has  overruled  every  influence, 
earthly  and  heavenly,  human  and  divine,  out- 
ward  and  inward,  providential  and  spiritual, 
by  which  it  has  been  accomplished.  It  is  his 
work.  It  is  all  his.  Ye  "  love  him  because  he 
first  loved  you." 

It  is  Christ's  work.  It  is  a  wondrous  work. 
It  is  a  precious  work.  But  —  it  is  all  a  work 
oi  grace.  It  is  of  pure  grace.  It  is  oi  free 
grace.  It  is  of  sovereign  grace.  It  has  not 
been  wrought  because  ye  were  good,  for  ye 
were  evil ;  nor  because  ye  were  worthy,  for 
you  had  no  particle  of  good  desert ;  nor  be- 
cause you  had  more  claim  to  blessing  than 
others,  for  both  you  and  they  had  no  claim. 
Christ  has  wrought  it,  not  because  he  must, 
but  because   he  would  ;  not  because  in  any 


THE   believer's    DEBT.  231 

sense  he  was  compelled,  but  of  his  own  free, 
sovereign  pleasure  —  purely  ;  not  for  your 
sakes,  but  for  his  own  name's  sake.  (1  John 
ii.  12  ;  Ephes.  ii.  7.) 

Look, -—look,  —  my  brother  in  covenant. 
See  whereon  you  stand  to-day!  See  to  whom 
you  are  bound  I  See  where  and  what  you 
are !  Look  unto  the  rock  whence  you  are 
hewn,  and  to  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  you 
are  digged,  —  add  this  to  the  cost  and  the 
sureness  of  your  Redemption,  —  and  then  scan 
the  amount  of  your  debt  to  Christ. 

But  this  is  not  all.  You  are  indebted 
to  Christ  for  special  and  wonderful  forbear- 
ance. 

His  forbearance  toward  those  who  believe 
not  in  him  is  wonderful  indeed.  But,  if  I  mis- 
take not,  it  is  slight  compared  with  his  forbear- 
ance toward  you  and  toward  me. 

O,  my  brother,  what  a  story  is  that  of  our 
Christian  discipleship  I  a  story  of  unfaithful- 
ness, of  ingratitude,  of  inconstancy,  of  depart- 
ure, of  fluctuating  love,  of  spiritual  treacheries, 
the  very  mention  of  which  should  make  us 
ashamed  ;  a  story  at  which  heaven  might 
shudder  were  it  not  a  brilliant  comment  on 
the  grace  of  God ;  such  a  story  that  it  must 
drive   us   back  —  back  —  to    despair,  were    it 


232 

not  for  the  measureless  efficacy,  the  matchless 
sufficiency,  of  the  blood  of  Christ. 

Why  !  when  we  were  washen  in  that  blood 
of  atonement ;  when  Christ  came  to  us  and 
whispered,  "Son,  —  daughter,  —  thy  sins  are 
forgiven,  go  in  peace"  ;  when  he  came  to  us 
in  the  midnight  darkness  of  our  conviction,  as 
we  stood  pale  and  trembling  at  the  foot  of  the 
mount  that  thundered  and  flashed  and  shook 
with  tempests,  and  said,  "  It  is  I,  be  not 
afraid,"  —  we  said  we  would  be  his.  We  said 
so  in  secret  places.  We  came  to  his  altar  and 
said  so  there.  We  made  our  vows  in  his 
sanctuary.  We  took  upon  us  the  seal  of  his 
covenant.  We  declared,  —  we  published, — 
that  to  us  he  was  the  chief  among  ten  thou- 
sand, and  the  one  altogether  lovely.  *  *  *  And 
how  has  it  been  with  us  since  ?  Where  have 
we  been  ?  What  have  we  been  ?  How  have 
w^e  kept  our  vows?  What  return  have  we 
made  for  his  Redeeming  Love  ?  What  return 
for  his  special,  electing,  renewing  grace  ? 
What  return  for  the  precious  hope  of  immor- 
tal life  ?  What  return  for  deliverance  from 
the  lashings  of  the  Law,  and  the  lashings  oi 
conscience  ?  What  return  for  our  precious 
seasons  of  closet  fellowship  ?  What  return ' 
Why,  —  we  forgot  him  !     We  forgot  him  !     I 


THE    BELIEVER'ti    DEBT.  233 

say,  —  we  forgot  him  I  The  thunders  of  the 
Law  were  hushed  ;  the  smart  of  our  scourg- 
ings  subsided  ;  the  flashing  of  the  fire  that 
burneth  passed  away;  our  wounds  were  healed, 
—  yes!  by  Ins  stripes,  by  his  blood,  —  and  we 
forgot  our  Deliverer! 

The  tempter  spread  his  charms  before  us  ; 
the  world  smiled  ;  subtle  enticers  begged  us 
to  taste  the  cup  of  enchantment ;  and  we  were 
snared,  —  we  yielded,  —  we  tasted.  The  smile 
of  fleshly  indulgence  seduced  us  from  the  smile 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  we  plunged  —  with  his 
seal  upon  us,  with  his  vows  upon  us,  with  his 
blood  upon  us  —  amid  the  buzz  and  the  tu- 
mult of  worldly  business  and  relationships. 
"We  put  him,  who  brought  us  salvation,  to 
open  shame.  We  wounded  him  in  the  house 
of  his  friends.  The  love  of  our  espousals 
has  cooled.  The  fervor  of  our  purpose  has 
abated.  We  have  been  treacherous  to  our 
beloved.  We  have  broken  our  vows.  We 
have  forgotten  our  purposes  and  our  obliga- 
tions. 

Where  have  been  our  fruits  ?  our  good 
fruits  ?  What  have  been  our  labors  for 
Christ  ?  What  have  been  our  self-denials  for 
Christ  ?  Where  has  been  our  spiritual-mind- 
edness  ?     Where  has  been  the   brightness  of 


234  THE  believer's  debt. 

our  piety?  Who  can  tell  —  where?  Who 
can  tell  —  what  ? 

And  our  neglects  of  duty,  —  how  many? 
And  our  indulgences  in  sin,  —  how  many? 
The  occasions  which  we  have  given  to  others 
to  despise  spiritual  religion,  —  how  many  ? 
The  times  in  which  we  have  made  our  pro- 
fession a  by-word  and  a  contempt,  —  how 
many  ? 

Do  you  say  that  this  picture  is  too  dark  for 
you  ?  Do  you  doubt  whether  it  be  not  over- 
wrought? For  me,  my  brother,  it  is  not.  I 
know  it  is  not  for  me  ;  and  I  verily  believe  it  is 
not  for  you.  I  believe  that  by  and  by  it  will 
appear  that  this  is  not  half  the  truth. 

But  enough  of  this.  How  has  it  been  with 
our  Lord  all  this  while  ?  Has  his  love  cooled  ? 
No.  Has  his  covenant-oath  been  forgotten  ? 
No.  Have  his  purposes  of  grace  and  kindness 
faltered?  No.  No.  Through  the  whole  — 
he  has  loved  us  still.  Through  the  whole  — 
he  has  borne  with  us.  He  is  still  kind,  —  still 
gracious.  He  has  watched  for  our  return.  His 
eye  has  followed  us  in  all  our  wanderings. 
Every  day,  —  every  night,  —  in  every  hour  of 
treachery,  —  in  every  scene  of  inconsistent  in- 
dulgence,—  he  has  been  with  us.  All  along, 
he   has  been   shaping  his    providences,  shap- 


THE    believer's    DEBT.  235 

ing  his  blessings,  shaping  and  tempering  and 
timing  his  chastisements,  precisely  and  accu- 
rately for  our  good ;  busy,  watchful,  earnest, 
to  make  all  things  "work  out  for  us  an  ex- 
ceeding weight  of  glory."  And  now  to-day, — 
it  matters  not  where  we  are ;  it  matters  not 
what  we  are ;  it  matters  not  how  far  we  have 
gone  in  declension  and  apostasy  and  treach- 
ery; it  matters  not  how  low  we  have  sunken  in 
shame,  —  he  is  ready  to  receive  us  back  again 
to  his  arms,  to  his4ove,  to  his  fellowship,  to  his 
consolations,  to  his  forgiveness. 

O  the  forbearance,  —  the  forbearance  of 
Christ  towards  us  I  O  the  greatness  of  our 
debt  to  him  for  this  ! 

But  —  his  Redemption  for  you,  —  his  spe- 
cial grace  to  you,  with  all  its  wonders,  —  and 
his  forbearance,  —  these  are  only  Ue7ns  in  the 
account  of  his  favors.  I  have  said  nothing  of  the 
precious  works  of  his  hands,  —  nothing  of  the 
bounteous  ministrations  of  his  providence, — 
nothing  of  how  he  has  blessed  you  with  health 
and  with  sickness,  with  abundance  and  with 
bereavement,  with  joy  and  with  afflictions,  — 
nothing  of  his  gift  of  Hope,  —  nothing  of  the 
grace  of  his  fellowship,  —  nothing  of  his  min- 
istrations for  you  in  heaven,  —  nothing  of  the 
16 


236  THE  believer's  debt. 

mission  of  angels  which  he  has  established  for 
your  protection  and  comfort,  —  nothing  of  the 
crown  of  glory,  or  the  inheritance  of  bliss  and 
love  and  perfect  grace,  which  he  keeps  in  store. 
Come,  brother,  think  of  your  debt  to  Christ ; 
your  peculiar  debt.     Think  of  the  wonders  he 
has  wrought  for  you,  and  in  you.     Think  of 
his    sufferings.       Think    of    his    forbearance. 
Think   of  his   ceaseless,  precious  favors   ever 
since  the  day  of  your  covenant.    Remember  — 
by  the  blood  of  your  Ransom,  by  the  agony  of 
your  Sacrifice,  I  adjure  you  to  remember  — 
these  things;  what  you  ivere^  what  you  are. 
Remember  by  whom,  and  through  whom,  and 
how  you  are  what  you  are.     Remember  the 
chains  and  the  bondage,  the  darkness  and  the 
curse,  the  wormwood  and  the  gall ;  the  beauty 
and   the  preciousness  of  your   dawning  hope. 
Remember  Jesus    Christ;  all  that  he  has  been 
to  you ;  all  that  he  means  to  be  to  you.     Re- 
member what  he  is  doing.     Your  crown,  he 
is    shaping   it.     Your  harp,  he   is    tuning   it. 
Your  seat  of  princedom  and  of  priesthood,  (for 
"  ye    shall    be    kings    and  priests  unto  God,") 
he  is  preparing  it.     Remember,  —  "  Sometime 
you  were  far  off,  an  alien  from  the  common- 
wealth of  Israel,  a  stranger  from  the  covenants 
of  promise."     He  sought  you.     He  found  you. 


THE    believer's    DEBT.  237 

He  drew  you.  And  now  you  "  are  made  nigh 
by  —  his  blood."  Matchless  —  matchless  — 
grace ! 

What  are  you  going  to  render  back  for  it? 
What  are  you  going  to  render  hack  for  it? 
A  little  more  indolence  ?  A  little  more  stupid- 
ity ?  A  little  more  languid  love  ?  A  little 
more  backsliding  ?  A  little  more  sleep,  and  a 
little  more  slumber  ? 

What!  yoii^  a  redeemed  one!  redeemed  by 
blood  !  by  the  Son  of  God  !  Yoii^  a  subject  of 
his  transforming  power!  Yoii^  who  "were 
dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  "  !  You^  "  whom 
he  hath  quickened  "  by  his  sovereign  grace ! 

Brother  in  covenant,  luhat  are  you  going'  to 
do  ?  What  are  you  going  to  render  back  to 
Christ  ?  From  henceforth,  —  from  this  mo- 
ment, evermore,  —  what  will  you  render  hack 
to  Christ  ?  Love  for  love  ?  heart  for  heart  ? 
oath  for  oath  ?  constancy  for  constancy  ?  —  or 
not  ? 

See!  the  heaven-wide,  amazing  difference 
between  what  you  are  and  what  you  were  I 
Look  at  it.  It  is  your  Redeemer''s  work. 
Look.  Say,  —  ivill  you,  —  luill  you  render 
back  to  him  oath  for  oath*,  love  for  love,  heart 
for  heart,  henceforth^  —  or  not  ? 


XII. 

SERYICE    THE    REQUIKEMENT    OF    CHRIST. 

There  are  two  opposite  errors  respecting 
the  requirements  of  Christ  which  are  common 
among  those  who  have  received  his  Gospel. 
The  one  is,  that  he  requires  only  those  duties 
which  concern  our  social  relations,  —  such  as 
truth,  honesty,  kindness,  gentleness ;  the  other, 
that  he  requires  some  exercises  of  heart  which 
are  either  so  mystical  that  we  cannot  under- 
stand them,  or  so  high  and  holy  that  we  can- 
not yield  them. 

These,  I  say,  are  errors.  The  first  results 
from  a  very  narrow  and  worldly  idea  of  the 
Christian  religion  ;  the  other  from  an  idea  so 
attenuated,  flighty,  and  vague,  as  to  overlook 
and  overfly  those  practical  traits  of  piety  which 
are  its  essential  beauties.  Both  these  errors 
are  evils.  They  are  each  misconceptions  of 
the  Gospel.  They  are  each  entangled  with 
false  views  of  Christ.  They  each  lead  to  re- 
spective errors  in  practice  ;  drawing  us  away 
from  that  "  holiness  without  which   no   man 


SERVICE  THE   REQUIREMENT   OF   CHRIST.    239 

can  see  the  Lord."  I  think  of  no  one  passage 
of  Scripture  having  more  appropriate  refer- 
ence to  these  errors  than  the  simple  injunc- 
tion of  our  Saviour,  that  we  should  "  take  his 
yoke  upon  us."  In  this  command  are  com- 
prised, I  conceive,  all  the  requirements  of 
Christ.  If  we  do  what  he  here  enjoins,  we 
are  Christians.  If  we  refuse,  we  are  not 
Christians. 

The  directions  of  the  Gospel  are  clothed  in 
a  variety  of  terms.  Sometimes  we  are  told 
"  to  repent "  ;  sometimes,  "  to  believe  "  ;  some- 
times, '*  to  come  unto  Christ."  These  several 
directions  evidently  involve  each  other ;  i.  e. 
Faith  is  always  hand  in  hand  with  Repent- 
ance, and  with  coming  unto  Christ.  They 
are  exercises  of  mind  which  cannot  exist  sep- 
arately. So  that  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  which  particular  one  the  sinner  is  pointed, 
or  with  which  particular  one  his  eye  is  occu- 
pied ;  for,  if  he  is  persuaded  to  one,  he  does 
necessarily  yield  to  all.  It  is  so  with  the  re- 
quirement that  we  should  take  upon  ourselves 
the  yoke  of  Christ.  Whoever  complies  with 
it  does,  as  a  matter  of  course,  comply  with 
these  other  directions  of  the  Gospel.  And 
thus  this  one  does  truly  cover  the  whole 
ground  of  Christian  duty. 


§40      SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST. 

"Repent"  is  a  plain  command.  So  is  "Be- 
lieve." So  is  "  Come  unto  me."  And  yet  so 
much  have  men  compassed  these  directions 
about  with  the  clouds  and  mists  of  speculative 
theology,  that  the  language  "  take  my  yoke  " 
may  gain  more  easy  access  to  our  understand- 
ing and  conscience  than,  perhaps,  any  other 
exhortation  of  Christ.  It  is  simple.  It  is  di- 
rect. It  is  obviously  and  purely  practical.  It 
is  difficult  to  understand  how  one  can  blunder 
respecting  the  nature  of  Christian  virtue  ;  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  how  one  can  fall  into 
the  errors  which  I  have  named;  it  is  difficult 
to  understand  how  one  need  be  kept  from 
eternal  life,  —  the  wiles,  and  snares,  and  lies  of 
Satan  notwithstanding,  — if  this  one  command 
of  Christ,  so  express,  so  simple,  so  practical, 
be  kept  before  the  mind. 

The  yoke  has  always  been  an  emblem  of 
service.  Our  Saviour,  therefore,  evidently  calls 
upon  us  to  enlist  in  his  service  ;  to  hold  our- 
selves, henceforth,  subject  to  his  direction  ;  to 
acknowledge  him  openly  and  practically  as 
our  Master.  The  most  superficial  reader  of 
the  Bible  cannot  be  ignorant  that  this  is  de- 
manded by  Christ  of  all  whom  he  came  to 
redeem.  He  claims  the  right  to  impose  upon 
us  such  commands  as  he  pleases,  and  to  re- 
ceive our  obedience  of  those  commands. 


SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST.    241 

But  what  is  it  to  render  obedience  to 
Christ's  commands  ?  What  is  it  to  take 
upon  ourselves  Christ's  yoke  ?  What  is  it  to 
acknowledge  him  as  our  Master? 

Do  we  do  it  when  we  sit  down  and  cull 
from  his  statute-book  one  class  of  his  direc- 
tions for  our  reverence  and  adoption,  and 
leave  another  class  untouched,  —  unstudied,  — 
uncared  for,  —  unpractised,  —  dishonored  ?  Am 
I  a  Christian  just  because  I  pray ;  just  be- 
cause I  confess  Christ  at  his  table;  just  be- 
cause, so  far  forth,  my  conduct  happens  to  cor- 
respond with  his  commands,  —  when,  all  the 
while,  I  neglect  a  score  of  others  ?  By  no 
means.  No  more  a  Christian  for  doing  this, 
than  I  should  be  a  Jew  for  abhorrins:  swine's 
flesh,  or  a  Mussulman  for  refusing  wine. 

Well,  —  vary  the  question.  Am  I  a  Chris- 
tian just  because  I  am  honest,  or  good-natured, 
or  meek,  or  gentle,  or  of  amiable  feelings  and 
deportment  in  my  domestic  life  ?  just  because, 
in  these  things,  I  chance  to  tally  with  the 
laws  of  Christ,  —  when,  in  fifty  others,  I  pay 
no  manner  of  regard  to  his  laws  ?  Again  the 
answer  is  clear  and  prompt  from  every  one 
who  has  half  an  eye  to  see,  —  By  no  means,. — 
no  more  a  Christian  than  a  moral  pagan  is ; 
no  more  than   Satan  is,  when  he  steals  the 


242      SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST. 

garb  and  apes  the  deportment  of  an  angel  of 
light. 

Vary  the  question  again.  Am  I  a  Christian 
just  because  I  have  passed  through  a  certain 
amount,  or  a  certain  kind,  of  religious  experi- 
ence,—  such  as  fears  or  compunctions,  —  or 
just  because  I  have  been,  or  am,  subject  to 
pleasurable  religious  excitements ;  when  ail 
the  while  I  decline  the  practical  injunctions  of 
Christ  ?     No.     No. 

Though  a  man  does  "  make  long  prayers,'  he 
is  no  Christian  if  he  "  devour  widows'  houses." 
Though  a  man  does  pay  "tithes  of  f/>int, 
anise,  and  cummin,"  he  is  no  Christian  if  he 
"  omit  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith."  Though 
a  man  do  "compass  sea  and  land  to  n^ake  one 
proselyte,"  he  is  no  Christian  if  he  "  make  him 
twofold  a  child  of  hell."  And  though  a  man 
be  "beautiful  outwardly,"  —  moral,  sanctimoni- 
ous, a  very  Daniel  in  the  sight  of  men,  —  he  is 
no  Christian  if  there  are  excess  and  iniquity  un- 
touched, uncontrolled  within.  Prayer,  receiving 
the  eucharist,  and  baptism,  do  not  make  a  man 
a  Christian,  if  he  be  a  knave.  Neither  do  hoii- 
esty,  and  sobriety,  and  truth,  and  amiablenctis, 
if  he  neglect  the  sacraments  and  prayer.  Nei- 
ther do  devotion  and  religious  ceremonies,  if 
he  neglect  the  practical  duties  of  life.    Nay,  — 


SERVICE   THE   REQUIREMENT   OF   CHRIST.      243 

he  may  observe  the  whole,  and  yet  be  no 
Christian.  He  may  observe  the  whole,  and 
yet  not  take  the  yoke  of  Christ.  He  may  ob- 
serve the  whole,  and  yet  not  obey  Christ. 
But  how  so  ?  Because,  while  Christ's  com- 
mands touch  upon  these  things,  they  go  fur- 
ther. While  they  concern  the  outward  life, 
they  concern  the  heart.  While  they  concern 
the  heart,  they  concern  its  feelings  both  toward 
man  and  toward  God;  toward  man  and  to- 
ward God  alike  and  equally. 

We  are  not  serving  Christ,  —  we  are  not 
acknowledging  him  as  our  Master,  —  when 
we  choose  one  half  of  his  rules  and  pass  by 
the  other  half  as  though  their  words  were  like 
the  babbling  of  a  stream,  or  the  whistling  of 
the  wind ;  no  matter  which  half  we  choose, 
nor  which  half  we  reject.  No,  —  no  more  than 
a  soldier  serves  his  country  by  shouldering  his 
musket  and  taking  the  field,  while  he  plots 
treason  with  the  enemy.  No  more  than  a 
child  serves  his  father  in  obeying  him  to-day, 
while  he  thwarts  and  defies  him  to-morrow. 

Taking  Christ's  yoke  signifies  serving  him. 
"  Serving  "  him  signifies  holding  ourselves  sub- 
ject to  his  directions.  And  his  directions  cover 
the  whole  field  of  actions  ;  outward  as  well  as 
inward,  —  inward  as  well  as  outward  ;  toward 


244      SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST. 

God  as  well  as  toward  man,  —  toward  man  as 
well  as  toward  God.  This  is  its  evident  and 
comprehensive  signification. 

But,  let  it  De  observed,  there  is  a  peculiar 
significance  in  the  command  to  "  take  Christ's 
yoke,"  to  which  we  ha^e  not  yet  alluded.  If 
we  do  adopt  his  Word  as  our  rule  of  conduct ; 
if  we  do  set  out,  and  go  on,  to  render  obe- 
dience to  his  commands  ;  if  we  do  undertake 
to  regulate  both  life  and  heart,  —  our  affections 
toward  man  and  our  affections  toward  God,  — 
in  the  manner  which  he  prescribes  ;  after  all, 
we  may  not  serve  Christ  in  what  we  do.  We 
may  be  serving  ourselves  in  our  religion.  We 
may  rush  to  the  commandments  of  the  Gospel 
in  a  fit  of  fear  and  merely  because  we  would 
be  safe.  We  may  turn  to  religion  in  a  fit  of 
ascetic  disappointment,  because  the  world  has 
cheated  us,  or  conscience  has  plagued  us,  and 
we  want  to  get  peace.  Now  if  this  is  all,  —  I 
say,  if  this  is  all ;  for  Christ  does  not  forbid  us 
to  desire  and  seek  our  own  good,  —  if  this  is 
all  for  which  we  undertake  the  duties  of 
Christ's  kingdom,  we  do  but  serve  ourselves  in 
our  religion.  Christ  asks  for  something  more. 
He  requires  us  in  all  our  religion  to  serve  him. 
In  other  words,  —  he  expects  of  us,  that  in  all 
which  we  do  we  should  seek  his  interests  more 


SERVICE  THE   REQUIREMENT   OF  CHRIST.      245 

than  those  of  any  other  one.  He  expects  of 
us  to  be  more  desh'ous  of  his  honor,  of  his 
pleasure,  of  the  prosperity  of  his  kingdom,  of 
the  triumph  of  his  grace,  than  we  are  for  our 
own  profit,  either  here  or  hereafter.  He  ex- 
pects, evidently,  —  not  indeed  that  we  should 
be  careless  of  ourselves  ;  not  indeed  that  we 
should  not  pant  for  our  own  salvation,  —  but 
that,  while  we  adopt  his  laws,  while  we  take 
his  yoke,  i\\Q  ^reat  reason  why  we  do  so  should 
be  our  love  and  gratitude  to  him. 

It  may  be  that,  as  your  eye  glances  over 
these  pages,  you  are  conscious  that  you  are 
not,  spiritually,  a  Christian.  It  may  be,  also, 
that  you  are  really  desirous,  and  that  you  even 
seek^  to  become  a  Christian.  You  are  con- 
vinced, perhaps,  of  your  peril ;  convinced,  per- 
haps, of  your  exceeding  guilt  as  a  sinner 
against  God;  but  you  are  benighted,  —  you 
are  perplexed.  You  have  sought,  you  say,  but 
you  have  not  found  ;  you  have  desired,  but 
you  have  not  obtained.  Perhaps  all  this  is 
true.  Yes,  —  and  something  more  is  true. 
You  have  tried  to  meet  the  Gospel's  direc- 
tions. You  have  tried  "  to  repent,"  —  i.  e.  you 
have  tried  to  urge  yourself  up  to  a  certain 
pitch    of  emotion   about  your   sins ;   but  you 


246      SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST. 

could  not  reach  it ;  after  all,  repentance  would 
not  come.  And  you  have  tried  "  to  believe,"  — 
i.  e.  you  have  tried  to  kindle  within  yourself 
such  feelings  toward  Christ  as  he  commands  ; 
but  after  all,  the  fire  would  not  burn,  —  your 
heart  is  dead,  and  cold,  and  icy.  And  now 
you  think  that  there  is  something  mysterious, 
—  something  inexplicable,  —  something  beyond 
your  reach,  — in  this  matter  of  becoming  a 
Christian.  Or  you  say,  that  "  you  must  sit 
down  and  wait,  —  idle,  passive,  patient,  —  un- 
til God  comes  (if  he  shall  please  to  come)  and 
make  you  a  Christian  ;  that  you  cannot  regen- 
erate yourself;  that  God  must  do  that ;  that  if 
he  does  not,  you  must  perish." 

But  —  'what  have  you  sought?  For  what 
have  you  tried  ?  To  regenerate  yourself?  To 
make  yourself  repent  ?  But  that  is  something 
which  you  cannot  do.  That  is  something 
over  and  above  your  duty.  That  is  something 
which  you  cannot  find  in  the  directions  of 
Christ.  Your  Saviour  does  not  tell  you  to  do 
what  only  God  can  do.  Your  labor  has  in- 
deed been  in  vain,  because  you  have  mistaken 
your  duty  —  utterly. 

There  is  another  thing  to  be  considered,  too. 
Christ  does  not  insist  upon  perfect  obedience. 
That  is  to  say,  —  he  does  not  require  that  you 


SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST.     247 

shall  keep  entirely  and  uniformly  every  one  of 
his  commandments  in  order  to  pardon  and  ac- 
ceptance. If  he  did,  the  Gospel  —  the  way  of 
salvation  by  Christ  —  would  be  no  better  than 
ihe  Law ;  for  the  Gospel  is  as  broad  as  the 
Law.  Christ  "  came  not  to  destroy  the  Law, 
but  to  fulfil."  He  does  not,  "  through  grace, 
make  void  the  Law"  in  the  matter  of  one  jot 
or  one  tittle  ;  contrarywise,  he  "  establishes  the 
Law."  And  if  you  have  thought  that  you 
must  be  pure  in  heart  and  pure  in  life  before 
you  could  be  a  Christian  ;  and  if  you  have 
aimed  at  this  as  the  means  of  becoming  a 
Christian,  —  there  again  you  have  mistaken 
what  Christ  requires ;  there  again  you  have 
"  spent  your  labor  in  vain." 

What,  then,  must  you  do  ?  Just  keep  in 
mind  what  you  are  not  to  do.  Just  keep  in 
mind  that  you  are  not  to  do  God's  work ;  that 
you  are  not  to  regenerate  your  own  heart ; 
that  yoQ  are  not  to  make  yourself  perfect ;  and 
that  you  are  not  to  sit  still,  in  the  midst  of 
your  tremendous  perils  and  responsibilities, 
doing  nothings  —  and  I  will  tell  you.  In  one 
word,  —  take  Christ'' s  yoke.  Begin,  —  begin 
his  service.  Go  to  your  closet,  —  go  out  un- 
der the  vault  of  heaven,  —  go  anywhere  you 
will,  and  make  a  covenant  with   Christ,  that 


248      SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST. 

whatsoever  he  teHs  you  to  do,  that  you  ivill  do. 
And,  then,  begin  and  do  it. 

Now,  my  beloved,  but  bewildered,  fellow- 
sinner,  how  simple  a  thing  this  is  !  There  is 
no  metaphysical  mummery  about  it.  There 
is  no  clashing,  no  jargon,  of  inconsistencies  in 
this.  There  is  no  mist  and  darkness.  It  is 
sunshine  ;  sunshine  because  it  is  clear,  —  sun- 
shine because,  if  you  come  to  it,  it  will  cheer 
your  soul,  it  will  gladden  your  eye.  It  will 
warm  you  with  the  glow  of  life  that  angels 
feel.  It  will  reveal  to  you  the  glories  which 
an  angel  sees.  It  will  move  your  heart  to 
such  melody  as  an  angel  makes  in  heaven* 
Come,  —  away  from  your  halting-place  ;  away 
from  that  miserable  position  where  doubts  and 
fancies  becloud  and  scare  you  like  the  mists 
and  bowlings  of  a  tempest.  Come,  — take  the 
yoke  of  Christ  upon  you.  This  is  all  you 
have  to  do.  Begin  his  service.  Make  your' 
self  over  to  him, — body  and  soul. 

But  you  ask,  —  Is  this  all  ?  Is  this  Scrip- 
tural ?  Must  I  not  first  "  repent "  ?  must  I  not 
first  "  believe  "  ?  must  I  not  first  "  come  unto 
Christ"?  My  dear  reader,  —  no.  Take  Christ's 
yoke.  Adopt  his  service.  This  is  —  "  repent- 
ance." This  is  —  "  faith."  This  —  is  "  com- 
ing unto   Christ."      And,  all   the  while,  you 


SERVICE   THE   REQUIREMENT   OF   CHRIST.      249 

have  been  trying  after  faith  and  repentance 
just  as  though  they  were  something  different. 
And  that  has  been  your  snare.  That  has 
been  your  stumbling-block.  And  if  you  cleave 
to  that,  you  will  be  bound  hand  and  foot  by 
your  own  doctrines ;  you  will  be  dashed  to 
pieces,  and  ground  to  powder,  by  your  own 
devices. 

Your  path  is  plain.  Your  duty  is  simple, 
however  much  it  may  involve.  Take  the  yoke 
of  Christ.  Serve  him.  Serve  him.  Beo^in 
to-day.     Begin  now. 

But  perhaps  you  belong  to  a  different  class. 
You  may  think  yourself  to  be  something  in 
Christ's  estimation,  when  in  truth  you  are 
nothing.  You  may  call  yourself  a  Christian, 
—  you  may  think  yourself  good,  —  while  it  is 
not  so.  Test  yourself  by  the  Word.  Test 
yourself  by  the  simple  command  which  we 
have  pointed  out.  Test  yourself  by"*  these,  — 
for  by  these  you  must  be  tested. 

You  —  are  crying  to  yom*  soul, —  "  Peace  "  ; 
because  you  have  been  the  subject  of  religious 
impressions,  or  have  experienced  certain  re- 
ligious pleasures.  You  flatter  yourself  on  this 
ground  that  you  are  a  Christian.  At  the  same 
time,  you  neglect  prayer ;  or  you  neglect  the 
sacraments  ;  or  you  neglect  your  social  duties ; 


250      SERVICE   THE   REQUIREMENT  OF   CHRIST. 

or,  your  temper ;  or,  your  tongue.  You  take 
no  more  heed  to  some  score  or  two  of  Christ's 
commandments  than  though  they  had  no  ex- 
istence. Well,  —  are  you  a  Christian?  Are 
you  Christ's  ?  Are  you  subject  to  his  direc- 
tion ?  What  !  when  you  throw  his  direc- 
tions to  the  winds  —  every  day?  Impossible. 
But  ,7/6>zi  —  are  one  who  goes  current  in  the 
church  for  a  pattern  of  piety.  You  come  up 
promptly  to  visible  religious  duties.  You 
make  prayers.  You  talk  to  the  wicked.  You 
rebuke  your  brethren.  You  ride  upon  the  top 
wave  of  religious  enterprises.  You  give  alms 
to  the  poor.  You  are  what  is  called  "  an  ac- 
tive Christian  "  ;  no  drone,  —  no  sleeper.  But, 
—  my  brother,  —  what  of  it  ?  Here  is  indeed 
something  which  looks  like  a  corner  of  the 
garment  of  piety,  —  but  what  of  it  ?  Have 
you  the  whole  ?  Have  you  —  the  garment  ? 
How  is  it  with  you  in  your  ordinary  business  ? 
Do  you  aim  to  conduct  all  your  contracts,  all 
your  negotiations,  all  your  payments, — just 
as  Christ  would  have  you  ?  How  is  it  with 
you  in  your  private  relations  ?  Do  you  strive 
to  behave  at  home  as  Christ  would  have  you  ? 
as  a  parent,  —  as  a  child,  —  as  a  hu?;band, — 
as  a  wife  ?  How  is  it  with  your  temper?  Do 
you   bring   that   under   the   rules  of   Christ? 


SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST.      251 

How  is  it  with  your  tongue  ?  Do  you  bring 
that  under  the  rules  of  Christ  ?  Now  if  you 
do  pass  over  iliese  things  ;  if  you  do  neglect  to 
guide  yourself  by  Christ's  rules  in  these  ;  with 
all  your  prayers,  —  with  all  your  religious  zeal, 

—  with  all  your  high  reputation  for  piety, — 
you  are  "  as  sounding  brass,  as  a  tinkling  cym- 
bal." You  are  not  yielding  your  neck  to  the 
yoke  of  Christ. 

But  I  think  I  hear  another  say,  —  "  R^ight,  but 
/  pay  my  tithes;  J  do  justice  ;  /love  mercy; 
/am  exemplary  and  scrupulous  in  the  street, 
and  at  home."   Yes,  —  yes,  — but  do  you  "  ivalk 

—  humbly  —  'with  your  God  "  ?  Heart  and  life 
echo  to  the  claims  of  neighbor  and  kindred. 
You  wrong  no  man.  You  are  the  light  and 
the  life  of  your  family  circle.  You  have  the 
orphan's  love  and  the  widow's  blessing.     But 

—  in  the  name  of  your  soul  —  are  you  a  Chris- 
tian?  Where  is  your  piety /oi^'rtrc/  G^o^.^  Do 
heart  and  life  echo  to  his  claims,  as  well  as  to 
your  neighbor's  ?  Do  you  strive  against  in- 
ivard  sins?  Remember,  —  the  commands  of 
Christ  sweep  over  the  v^hole  of  your  relations. 
They  point  you  to  God  as  well  as  to  man ;  to 
your  heart  as  well  as  to  your  life. 

To  all  who  are  living  in  the  neglect  of  any 
class,  or  of  any  one^  of  Christ's  commands,  T 
17 


252     SERVICE  THE  REQUIREMENT  OF  CHRIST, 

say,  —  Take  heed.  You  —  Christians !  You 
—  good  men!  good  women!  good  children! 
"What!  when  you  refuse  the  yoke  of  Christ! 
when  you  do  7iot  subject  yourselves  to  his 
commands!  when  yon  adopt  one  half,  and  re- 
ject one  half!  No,  —  no.  If  you  refuse  his 
yoke,  if  you  decline  his  service^  Christ  is  not 
your  Master.  And  then,  —  O  the  foundation 
of  your  soul!  it  is  a  quicksand!  The  fabric 
of  your  hope,  —  it  is  a  bubble  !  With  all  your 
morality,  —  with  all  your  religion, — with  all 
your  religious  Experience,  —  if  you  take  not 
Christ's  yoke,  your  bright  visions  of  salvation 
will  vanish,  like  the  mists  of  the  morning, 
when  the  light  of  another  world  shall  reveal 
the  nakedness  of  your  soul. 

"  Be  not  deceived ;  God  is  not  mocked." 
Are  you  Christ'' s  ?  Do  you  wear  his  yoke  ? 
This,  —  this  is  the  question. 


XIII. 

THE    RESULTS    OF  THE    CHRISTIAIS'S 
AEELICTIONS. 

He  who  loves  and  trusts  God  derives  pe- 
culiar satisfaction  from  the  thought  that  all 
events,  without  exception,  are  under  God's 
control.  He  loves  to  dwell  upon  this  truth, 
especially  when  he  observes  the  intricacy, 
and  the  mystery,  and  the  seeming  confusion 
and  contradiction  of  things  around  him.  A 
thousand  facts  transpire,  whose  reasons,  whose 
tendency,  whose  righteousness,  he  can  in  no 
wise  understand.  But  it  is  enough  for  him  to 
know,  that  "  not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the 
ground  without  his  Heavenly  Father."  Nay, 
—  a  thousand  things  transpire  which  seem 
positively  productive  of  evil ;  the  wicked  pre- 
vail,—  the  Truth  is  ineffectual,  —  a  host  of  in- 
ventions spring  up  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
care  not  for  God.  But  it  is  enough  for  such  a 
a  believer  that  "  the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise 
God,  and  that  the  remainder  of  v/rath  he  will 
restrain." 


254  THE  RESULTS  OF  AFFLICTIONS. 

But  let  us  select,  for  special  inspection,  a 
particular  branch  of  the  general  truth  of  God's 
universal  superintendence.  While  he  is  con- 
trolling all  events,  he  is  controlling'  them  for 
the  good  of  those  who  trust  him. 

Yes ;  this  "  we  know,  that  all  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God ;  — 
all  things,  —  the  greatest  and  the  least,  —  the 
brightest  and  the  darkest,  —  far  and  near,  — 
past,  present,  future;  all  things,  —  plenty  and 
famine,  —  health  and  pestilence,  —  every  revo- 
lution and  convulsion  of  governments, —  every 
discovery  and  invention  of  man,  —  the  work- 
ing of  every  press,  and  the  labor  of  every  en- 
gine, —  all  are  under  the  sway  of  God,  and 
they  all  serve  God ;  not  only  for  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  his  grace,  but  for  the  full  and  per- 
fect joy  of  all  his  saints. 

If  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
who  love  God,  then  surely  the  troubles  of  life 
do.  Every  thing  which  befalls  them  is  ordered 
in  love.  Every  thing  which  causes  them  grief 
is  timed  and  measured  to  them  in  tender  mer- 
cy,—  eve?-?/  thing;  whether  the  suffering  and 
departure  of  wife,  husband,  children  ;  or  the 
unkindness,  or  treachery,  or  brutality  of  those 
whom  they  have  trusted ;  or  pecuniary  re- 
■-^erses ;  or  poverty ;  or  the  most  transient  diffi- 


THE  RESULTS  OF  AFFLICTIONS.  255 

culty  of  common  life.  If  we  love  God,  each 
and  all  are  ordered  for  our  good,  and  produc- 
tive of  our  good. 

Formal  proof  of  this  is  needless.  It  is  dis- 
tinctly declared  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
has  been  abundantly  illustrated  by  the  expe- 
rience of  the  whole  Church.  Let  me  simply 
specify,  for  the  consideration  of  my  reader, 
some  of  the  more  prominent  benefits  which 
flow  to  God's  people  through  the  trials  of  their 
pilgrimage. 

They  who  love  God,  love  to  go  to  him. 
They  love  prayer.  They  love  that  intercourse 
which  is  sustained  between  the  soul  and  God 
at  the  mercy-seat.  They  love  it  at  all  times. 
But  at  no  time  does  the  Christian  go  to  God 
with  such  eagerness  as  when  he  is  in  trouble. 
When  the  heart  is  aching  and  bleeding, — 
when  it  throbs  with  grief,  almost  to  bursting, 
—  O,  how  good  that  refuge !  How  good  the 
overshadowing  of  the  mercy-seat !  It  is  as 
grateful  for  him  to  go  there  when  he  is  worried 
with  cares,  or  dangers,  or  bereavements,  as  for 
the  hunted  deer  lo  hide  himself  in  the  depths 
of  the  forest  and  to  cool  himself  in  its  living 
fountains ;  as  grateful  as  for  the  frighted  bird 
to  alight  safely  in  its  quiet  nest;  as  grateful  as 


256  THE   RESULTS   OF  AFFLICTIONS. 

for  the  wearied,  terror-stricken  child  to  leap  to 
its  mother's  arms.  It  is  as  grateful ;  it  is  as 
natural.  And  there,  —  before  God,  —  in  the 
day  of  his  adversity,  it  is  with  a  full,  and  fer- 
vent, and  eloquent  heart,  that  the  child  of  God 
pours  out  his  troubles  and  his  wants.  There 
is  no  coldness,  no  formality,  about  his  devo- 
tions then.  There  is  no  want  of  words,  no 
stammering,  upon  his  tongue.  He  comes  under 
the  impulse  of  a  beating  heart.  He  comes  in 
earnest.  He  comes  with  boldness.  He  plun- 
ges into  the  fountain.  He  lays  hold  upon  the 
Almighty  arm  with  his  ivhole  strength.  He 
must^  —  for  to  none  else  can  he  go.  He  must^ 
—  for  none  else  can  know  his  heart's  bitter- 
ness. He  must^  —  for  nothing  else  can  suit  his 
case  ;  nothing  else  can  touch  the  spot  of  pain 
within  him.  And  thus  he  is  brought  into 
closej  earnest  communion  with  God.  He 
throws  himself,  as  it  were,  upon  the  very  arms 
of  his  Father;  lays  his  throbbing  head  upon 
his  very  bosom  ;  lifts  up  his  tearful  eyes  and 
drinks  in  the  very  light  of  his  countenance. 

A  little  bird  sitting  amid  the  foliage  of  a 
tree  is  frightened  by  some  noise  beneath.  He 
flies  to  a  higher  branch.  Again,  —  and  he 
leaps  to  a  higher.  Again,  —  to  the  topmost 
bough.     Again,  —  and  he  soars  away  toward 


THE  RESULTS  OF  AFFLICTIONS.      257 

heaven.  Just  so  with  the  Christian ;  just  so. 
Disturbed  by  the  commotions,  and  terrors,  and 
troubles  of  things  benealh,  his  first  impulse  is 
to  leap  vpiuard.  Again,  —  to  ascend  higher 
and  still  higher;  and  at  last,  to  fly  away  to- 
ward heaven,  —  toward  his  God,  —  where,  for 
the  time,  no  distress  or  adversity  can  reach 
him  ;  to  the  sure  place  of  refuge,  the  free  ex- 
panse of  undisturbed  communion  with  his 
Father. 

I  need  not  explain  lioiv  this  is ;  though  to 
do  so  would  be  very  simple.  It  is  sufficient 
that  such  is  the  fact. 

But  there  is  another  natural  effect  of  world- 
ly trouble  upon  the  Christian.  The  same  spir- 
itual instinct  which  impels  him,  in  a  day  or  an 
hour  of  darkness,  to  flee  to  God  for  fellowship, 
also  impels  him  to  look  about  him  and  exam- 
ine afresh  the  tokens  of  God's  character  and 
the  features  of  God's  government.  God  has 
smitten  him.  God  has  made  him  drink  the 
cup  of  bitterness.  This  is  his  first  thought. 
But  what  is  his  second?  To  see  if  he  cannot 
find  some  argument  in  the  grief  which  has  be- 
fallen him  wherewith  to  impeach  the  character 
and  government  of  Him  who  has  smitten  ? 
No.  He  casts  about  him,  instantly,  to  strength- 
en his  faith.     He  wants  to  gather  together  the 


258  THE  RESULTS   OF  AFFLICTIONS. 

glowing  evidences  of  God's  goodness.  He 
wants  to  bring  them  before  his  eye  in  one  blaz- 
ing constellation  of  beauty  and  glory.  He 
wants  to  gather  them  together  in  one  living 
assemblage  to  pour  their  melting  eloquence 
upon  his  heart  anew,  so  that  his  spontaneous 
response  shall  be,  —  "  Though  thou  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  thee  ;  though  the  fig-tree  shall 
not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines  ; 
the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields 
shall  yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall  be  cut  off 
from  the  fold  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the 
stalls,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord  and  joy  in 
the  God  of  my  salvation." 

And  thus  he  brings  up  before  himself  the 
character  and  the  government  of  God  as  they 
are  declared  in  the  Word,  as  they  are  inter- 
preted in  the  mystery  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  in 
Providence,  in  Nature,  in  all  things.  He  finds 
that  they  abide  the  scrutiny.  Nay,  the  closer 
he  inspects  the  more  he  finds  to  admire,  the 
more  to  adore,  the  more  to  trust.  He  finds 
that  the  very  smartings  of  his  fleshly  state 
have  brought  him  to  clearer  and  dearer  views 
of  the  God  of  his  fathers,  —  the  adorable  God 
of  his  covenant. 

I  have  only  to  add  on  this  point,  that  the 
natural  and  necessary  influence  of  these  two 


THE   RESULTS   OF   AFFLICTIOXS.  259 

things  —  communion  with  God,  and  the  in- 
spection of  his  character  and  government  — 
is  to  quiclven  the  exercise  of  every  Christian 
grace.  In  other  words,  to  lead  the  Christian 
to  new  faith,  to  new  love,  to  new  hope,  to  new 
consecration.  Here  are  nearer  and  clearer 
views  of  God  gaine,d  under  the  operation  of 
trials.  A  new  view  of  God,  a  new  season  ol 
communion,  are  only  new  incentives  to  the 
gracious  aflfections  of  the  Christian's  heart. 
But  these  affections  grow  by  exercise.  They 
are  strengthened,  matured,  perfected,  by  action^ 
just  like  any  other  affection  or  power.  And 
thus,  while  afflictions  drive  the  Christian  to 
the  resources  of  God,  and  bring  him  to  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  God,  and  excite 
anew  his  affections  toward  God,  they  are  — 
plainly  —  special,  efficacious,  precious  means 
of  his  growth  in  holiness. 

Another  benefit  which  I  specify  as  accruing 
to  God's  people  from  their  afflictions  is  —  spir- 
itual comfort. 

The  Apostle  Paul,  who  not  only  wrote  under 
the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  but  from 
the  teachings  of  his  own  experience  also,  holds 
such  language  as  this  :  "  Blessed  be  God,  even 
the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father 


260  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

of  mercies,  and  the  God  of  all  comfort,  who 
comforteth  us  in  all  our  tribulation ;  .  .  .  . 
for  as  the  sufferings  of  Christ  abound  in  us, 
so  our  consolation  also  aboundeth  by  Christ." 
And  he  also  says  to  the  Corinthian  Christians, 
"  Our  hope  of  you  is  steadfast,  knowing'  that, 
as  ye  are  partakers  of  the  sufferings,  so  shall 
ye  be  also  of  the  consolation." 

One  who  is  not  a  child  of  God  by  adoption, 
when  he  meets  with  trouble,  receives  no  spir- 
itual ministrations  from  above.  His  heart  is 
shut  against  them.  Unbelief  sits  at  the  door, 
effectually  keeping  away  every  angel  of  mercy 
which  a  God  of  comfort  sends.  Affliction 
either  preys  upon  his  life,  and  makes  the  whole 
world  to  him  a  world  of  gloom,  or  he  drowns 
his  trouble  in  the  waves  of  business  or  pleasure. 
But  God  has  ways  of  comforting  his  afflicted 
children  which  the  world  neither  know  nor 
understand.  While  the  heart  of  the  believer, 
in  trouble,  turns  itself  toward  Him,  He  turns 
himself  toward  it.  While  the  child  flees  to 
the  Father,  the  Father  smiles  and  embraces 
the  child.  While  the  cry  of  grief  is  uttered 
to  Him,  the  ministration  of  Divine  grace  is 
poured  out.  It  is  as  when  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters.  It  is  as 
the  voice  of  Jesus  upon  the  sea,  "  Peace,  be 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.  261 

still "  ;  as  the  voice  of  the  Master  to  his  disci- 
ples, "  It  is  I ;  be  not  afraid." 

Such  is  the  work  which  God  effects  for  his 
people  in  the  days  of  their  tribulation.  He 
gives  them  "  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning ;  the 
garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness." 
He  softens  the  anguish  of  their  grief.  He 
sweetens  its  bitterness.  He  tempers  its  sharp- 
ness. He  soothes  its  tumults.  And  after  the 
first  gust  of  agitation  is  spent,  he  sheds  abroad 
in  the  heart  a  spirit  so  like  that  of  angels,  that 
you  can  see  there  the  plastic  influence  of  the 
same  hand  which  has  strung  the  harps,  and 
given  the  peace,  of  heaven. 

I  thank  God  that  in  my  brief  life  I  have  seen 
siich  proofs  of  his  grace  ;  that  I  have  seen  the 
difference  which  he  makes  between  the  right- 
eous and  the  wicked  in  their  times  of  trouble. 
I  have  witnessed  many  scenes  of  distress.  I 
have  seen  a  godless  man,  in  convulsive  agony, 
beside  the  grave  of  some  buried  hope.  I  have 
seen  his  body  and  soul  almost  riven  asunder 
by  the  tempest;  the  world  —  his  darling 
world  —  black  as  very  midnight  ;  and  his 
heavens  sheeted  with  one  vast  cloud  of  com- 
fortless indignation.  I  have  watched  him 
when  thus  stricken  to  the  earth ;  and  in  a  fit 
of  reckless  anguish  he  has  gathered  himself  up, 


262  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

and  then  launched  out,  without  a  single  dis- 
pensation of  God's  mercy  to  his  soul,  upon 
the  wild  waters  of  worldly  care  and  diversion, 
—  that  he  might  forget  the  day  and  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  affliction  ;  that  he  might  sear  and 
harden  the  heart  which  could  find  no  com- 
fort. 

But  I  have  seen  others  into  whose  souls  the 
iron  had  also  entered, — who  had  felt  it  as 
keenly  too,  —  placid  and  gentle  under  the 
stroke ;  "  behaving  themselves  and  quieting 
themselves  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his 
mother."  The  blast  had  passed  over  them, 
and  they  had  bent  beneath  it ;  but  they  arose 
again,  and,  like  the  bruised  reed,  struck  forth 
their  roots  the  more  eagerly  for  the  moisture 
which  the  blast  had  scattered,  and  looked  up- 
ward the  more  earnestly  for  warmth  and 
brightness  to  the  very  heavens  whence  came 
their  tribulation.  Yes,  —  I  have  seen  them 
brighter  Christians  ;  better,  —  happier.  I  have 
heard  their  tremulous  hymns  of  praise  to  Him 
who  had  tried  them.  I  have  heard  them  tes- 
tify, that  "  as  the  sufferings  of  Christ  had 
abounded  in  them,  so  their  consolation  also 
had  abounded  by  Christ." 

But  there  is  a  benefit  which  accrues  here^ 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.         '  263 

after  to  God's  people  from  their  worldly  trou- 
bles. 

The  Psalmist  seems  to  express  in  very 
marked  language  the  idea  which  I  would  here 
present.  He  says,  "  Make  us  glad  according 
to  the  days  wherein  thou  hast  afflicted  us,  and 
the  years  wherein  we  have  seen  evil.  Let  thy 
work  appear  unto  thy  servants,  and  thy  glory 
unto  their  children."  As  though  he  was  ex- 
pecting future  joy  in  precise  proportion  to  past 
affliction ;  as  though  he  was  expecting  that 
joy  to  come  in  connection  with  —  as  the  result 
of — those  afflictions.  Nay,  more,  —  as  though 
he  was  expecting  that  God's  "work"  in  those 
afflictions  would  hereafter  be  all  unravelled  ; 
the  mystery,  the  reasons,  the  kindness,  the  op- 
eration of  it  all  made  plain  ;  and  that  thus  the 
"^/o/*7/"  of  God  in  his  dispensation  of  trials 
would  be  made  to  "  appear,"  not  only  to  the 
afflicted,  but  to  others  also. 

The  future  world  (the  Bible  warrants  us  in 
saying  it)  is  to  be  a  world  of  revelation.  The 
great  map  of  God's  dealings  is  to  be  unrolled, 
and  we  are  to  study  it  and  understand  it.  We 
are  to  trace  out  the  hidden  mysteries  of  Re- 
demption ;  the  untold  sufferings  of  Christ  upon 
the  cross  ;  the  overruling  influence  of  God  in 
all  the  convulsions,  and  sins,  and  miseries  of  a 


264  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

ruined  world  ;  the  precise  bearings  of  all  which 
God  has  here  brought  about  upon  the  grand 
result  of  the  world's  regeneration.  We  shall 
have  made  clear  to  us  all  the  particulars  of  the 
world's  history,  and  see  how  God's  finger  was 
secretly  and  discreetly  arranging  and  managing 
the  whole.  We  shall  see  their  reasons  ;  their 
influences  ;  how  they  have  all  moved  on,  un- 
der the  control  of  Him  who  ruleth  over  all, 
harmoniously,  admirably,  unerringly  ;  each 
tributary  (whether  designingly  or  undesigning- 
ly,  willingly  or  unwillingly),  each  tributary,  in 
its  time  and  measure,  to  the  production  of 
those  ends  for  which  God  in  goodness  and 
righteousness  has  made  and  upheld  the  world. 
Of  course  there  will  be  unrolled  before  us  the 
particulars  of  our  personal  histories.  The 
child  of  God  will  review  his  career  step  by 
step,  point  by  point,  from  the  cradle  onward. 
Forgotten  events,  —  events  at  the  very  time  of 
their  occurrence  almost  unnoticed,  —  all  will  be 
brought  up  before  him  in  heaven,  and  all  their 
reasons  and  their  subtle  influences  disclosed. 
The  bearings  of  every  connection  and  relation 
in  life,  and  of  their  character,  and  of  their  rup- 
ture, will  stand  out  before  him  with  perfect 
distinctness.  He  will  see  how  God  led  him 
into  them  all,   and   arranged   them   all,   and 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.  265 

timed  them  all,  and  managed  them  all.  He 
will  see  also  how  they  served,  each  one  in  its 
own  place  and  measure,  to  secure  his  salvation, 
to  mould  and  perfect  his  spirit  in  the  likeness  of 
God.  The  necessity  of  his  afflictions^  there- 
fore, will  appear.  He  will  see  their  gentle- 
ness, their  wisdom,  their  perfect  fitness  to  his 
wants,  their  productive  influence  upon  his 
heavenly  glory.  He  will  see  how  each  one 
did  something  in  the  precious  work  of  attun- 
ing his  heart  to  the  heavenly  song,  —  of  fitting 
his  brow  for  the  heavenly  crown.  He  will  see 
how  every  secret  sigh,  and  tear,  and  weariness, 
was  allotted  to  him  for  the  express  purpose 
of  his  preparation  for  glory  ;  and  how  they 
wrought  out  that  purpose  ;  and  how  for  that 
purpose  they  could  not  have  been  spared. 
And  as  he  traces  out  all  these  particulars,  — 
as  the  "  work  of  God  appears"  herein,  —  how 
like  a  flood  will  be  the  disclosure  of  God's 
wondrous  glory  I  How  enrapturing  will  be 
the  demonstration  of  God's  tender  mercy,  of 
his  accurate  loving-kindness,  in  the  whole  ! 
This  is  the  fountain  of  the  "  gladness  "  of  the 
saints,  —  the  outflowing  revelation  of  the  good- 
ness and  holiness  of  Him  who  sitteth  on  the 
throne ;  of  Him  whom  they  love  and  adore. 
And  as  each  specific  trouble  of  their  weary  pil- 


266  Tllli    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

grimage  comes  up  before  them  with  its  inter- 
pretation, and  as  each  interpretation  thereof 
elicits  a  new  radiance  from  the  character  of 
God,  so  will  a  new  thrill  of  blissful  emotions 
inspire  the  saint  who  sees,  and  a  new  anthem 
of  praise  from  his  burning  lips  will  swell  up- 
ward unto  Him  who  hath  redeemed  by  blood 

"  It  is  the  Lord  whose  matchless  skill 
Can  from  afflictions  raise 
Matter  eternity  to  fill 
With  ever-growing  praise." 

Thus  most  truly,  most  emphatically,  most 
wondrously,  will  the  saints  be  "made  glad" 
precisely  "  according  to  the  days  wherein  God 
has  afflicted  them,  and  the  years  wherein  they 
have  seen  evil."  Thus  most  wondrously  are 
their  present  afflictions  working  together  for 
their  good. 

When  you  go  out  at  the  opening  of  the 
morning,  the  dews  lie  beneath  your  feet  so 
pure,  so  fresh,  so  brilliant,  that  you  might  al- 
most think  "  an  angel  had  scattered  pearls 
from  heaven  "  to  cheer  you  with  a  sweet  token 
of  his  unseen  ministry,  or  with  a  pure  memo- 
rial of  his  own  home.  But  they  are  gone. 
They  have  gathered  themselves  together  in  the 
cloud,  and  come  back  to  you  with  thunder 
and   lightning   and   tempest.      They  veil  the 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.  267 

light  of  the  sun  and  fill  you  with  agitation. 
But  you  look  again,  and  behold  I  there  they  are, 
set  before  you  in  all  the  glory  of  the  bow  of 
promise  stretching  itself  over  the  heavens,  and 
again  filling  you  with  wonder  and  gladness, 
—  again  displaying  to  you  the  goodness  of 
God. 

Just  so  the  worldly  beauties  in  which  the 
Christian  delights  are  ravished  from  him  ;  and 
there  gather  about  him  the  clouds  of  distress 
and  affliction.  But  lo  !  when  this  is  finished, 
a  glory  is  revealed  from  the  very  sources  of 
his  disappointment  brighter  than  the  blessing 
of  the  morning.  In  the  very  events  which 
ministered  his  affliction  he  shall  behold  a  dis- 
play of  God's  glory  yielding  him  infinite  com- 
pensation for  the  bitterness  of  his  trial. 

Times  of  trouble  are  times  of  honesty. 
Then  men  act  without  art.  The  prevailing 
temper  of  the  spirit  is  developed.  The  lover 
of  the  world  will  turn  to  the  world  for  relief. 
The  lover  of  God,  to  God.  When  the  heart 
most  feels  its  weakness  and  dependence,  then 
it -yearns  most  sensibly  after  that  in  which  it 
trusts.  And  never  does  it  feel  its  weakness 
and  dependence  more  than  in  the  days  of  its 
tribulation.     If,  now,  it  is  true  that  afflictions 

18 


268  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God 
and  if  it  is  true  that  special  intercourse  with 
God  and  special  comforts  are  —  to  such  —  the 
sure  fruits  of  afflictions,  then  it  is  plain  that 
they  who  experience  these  blessings  love  God, 
and  that  they  who  do  not  experience  them  do 
not  love  him. 

Does  a  man  in  the  hour  of  sorrow  betake 
himself  to  the  throne  of  grace  ?  Does  he  go 
there  in  the  spirit  of  confidential  fellowship  ? 
Does  he  throw  himself  upon  God  with  the 
spirit  of  a  sorrowing,  affectionate,  trustful 
■  child  ?  Does  he  find  that  the  hour  of  trouble 
is  an  hour  when  he  cries,  "  Abba,  Father,"  with 
unwonted  emotion  ?  when  bis  soul  seems 
melted  within  him  by  the  lively  fervor  of  his 
secret  communion  ?  Does  he  thus  grow  in 
grace  ? 

Does  he  find  that  there  is  an  unseen  arm 
buoying  him  up  amid  the  billows  ?  that  there 
is  a.  soothing  balm  upon  his  wounds  ?  that 
there  seems  to  be  another  fountain  opened 
within  him  of  peace  and  quietness  mingling 
with  the  fountain  of  his  grief?  Does  he  find 
that  "  the  secret  of  the  Almighty  is  with  him  "  ? 
and  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  ?  and  a  sweet 
concord  of  thoughts  and  feelings  and  affections 
blending  themselves  with  the  decrees  and  al- 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.  269 

lotments  of  God  ?  Does  he  thus  find  comfort 
from  God  ? 

Surely  that  man  must  love  God.  Surely 
there  must  be  a  medium  of  communication,  a 
bond  of  union,  between  him  and  God,  which 
cannot  exist  without  love. 

Again,  —  does  a  man  go  through  trouble 
without  fleeing  to  the  mercy-seat  ?  or,  if  he 
goes  there,  is  it  without  nearness  of  access  ? 
Does  his  afHiction  excite  him  to  no  exercise 
of  trust  in  God,  or  of  the  spirit  of  adoption  ? 
Does  his  heart  ache  and  throb,  and  ache  and 
throb  without  consolation  ?  Is  his  grief  ex- 
hausted rather  than  soothed?  Is  he  conscious 
that  there  is  something  which  might  befit  his 
case  which  he  has  not  ?  that  there  is  a  spot 
within  him  which  no  balm  as  yet  has  reached? 
Is  it  thus  evident  that  he  gets  no  good,  either 
of  grace  or  of  comfort,  from  his  trouble  ? 
How  plain  it  is,  —  how  very  plain,  —  if  the 
testimony  of  Scripture  is  true,  that  that  man 
does  not  love  God.  Why  !  either  there  is  an 
error  of  doctrine  in  the  Bible,  or  there  is  an 
error  in  his  heart.  Either  there  is  an  error  of 
doctrine  in  the  Bible,  or  he  is  in  an  error  if  he 
thinks  that  he  loves  a  holy  God. 

Perhaps  you  have  been  bowed  under  the 
rod    of  your    Heavenly    Father.      You    have 


270  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

buried  children  or  parents,  husband  or  wife, 
brother  or  sister.  Many  a  cord  which  has 
wound  tightly  about  you  has  been  torn  asun- 
der. Many  a  melancholy  breach  has  been 
made  in  the  circle  of  your  domestic  affections. 
The  arrows  of  the  Almighty  have  entered 
deep  into  your  spirit.  Go  back  now,  and  call 
up  the  memory  of  your  wounds.  Bring  to 
mind  the  seasons  of  your  by-gone  griefs.  Did 
they  do  you  good?  Did  they  impel  you  to 
God  ?  Did  they  urge  you  to  those  exercises 
of  heart  which  are  the  graces  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  ?  Did  they  prove  to  you  seasons  of 
consolation  ?  seasons  when  the  voice  of  God, 
and  the  name  of  God,  and  the  promises  of 
God,  were  life  and  spirit  to  you  ?  And  now, 
as  you  open  your  wounds  afresh,  —  as  you 
think  of  the  love  and  endearment  of  those  who 
lie  waiting  for  you  in  the  grave,  —  what  is  the 
influence  thereof  upon  you?  Fresh  grief, — 
fresh  tears,  —  I  know.  But  what  is  the  influ- 
ence otherwise  ?  Do  they  do  you  good  now  ? 
With  the  memory  of  your  bereavements,  does 
there  also  steal  over  your  agitated  heart  some- 
thing like  the  light  of  God's  countenance? 
something  like  the  subduing,  tranquillizing  in- 
fluence of  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  Or  was  it  difler- 
ent  with  you  when  the  rod  smote  you  ?  And 
is  it  different  now  ? 


THE  RESULTS  OF  AFFLICTIONS.     271 

One  thought  more.  We  are  born  to  trou- 
ble. Go  through  life  without  it,  we  cannot. 
This  world  is  not  our  home.  It  is  not  our 
rest.  And  even  those  who,  "  in  their  lifetime^ 
received  their  good  things,"  bear  many  a  bur- 
den ;  meet  many  a  bereavement  ;  give  up 
many  a  darling  blessing  before  they  go  down 
to  their  graves.  Are  you  "  without  God  in 
the  world  "  ?  However  bright  your  prospects, 
however  strong  the  towers  of  your  expecta- 
tions, however  sanguine  your  worldly  hopes, 
you  will  find  them  all  changed.  Your  pros- 
pects will  grow  dark.  Your  towers  will  crum- 
ble, piecemeal,  to  their  foundations.  Your 
hopes  will  fade  away  and  depart,  like  the  hope 
of  the  hypocrite,  like  the  giving  up  of  the 
ghost.  Take  to  your  bosom  a  companion  for 
your  journey ;  the  tie  which  binds  you  to  her 
is  like  the  spider's  web.  Rejoice  in  the  chil- 
dren around  your  board  ;  death  covets  them 
for  their  very  loveliness,  and  spreads  his  toils 
to  catch  them.  If  you  live  to  the  full  age  of 
man,  you  will  part  with  many  a  worldly  com- 
fort ;  you  will  follow  in  the  funeral  train  of 
many  whom  you  love  ;  you  will  feel  many  an 
arrow  enter  your  heart.  Nay,  it  may  be  that, 
when  you  come  to  stand  upon  the  last  limit 
of  your  pilgrimage,  you  will  stand  there  like 


272  THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS. 

the  tree  of  the  forest  whose  fellows  have  fallen 
around  it ;  alone,  —  blighted  ;  to  mock,  by  the 
decrepitude  and  imbecility  and  friendlessness 
of  old  age,  the  pride  and  glory  and  expectation 
of  man.  And  then  must  come  the  last  day  of 
your  distress,  of  your  weakness,  of  your  neces- 
sity ;  the  day  when  you  must  go  to  meet  your 
misdeeds  and  your  God. 

It  will  be  a  bitter  thing  for  you  if  you  en- 
counter the  successive  evils  of  life,  and  get  no 
good  from  them.  It  will  be  hard  for  you  to 
bury  your  worldly  blessings,  and  part  with 
your  worldly  hopes,  if  with  these  afflictions 
you  get  no  blessing.  If  the  seasons  of  your 
troubles  do  not  impel  you  to  God  to  let  out 
your  heart  before  him  like  a  child ;  if  they  do 
not  quicken  you  to  the  work  of  searching  "  the 
unsearchable  riches  of  Christ"  ;  if  they  do  not 
prove  to  you  the  occasions  and  the  channels 
of  God's  comforting  ministrations  ;  then  it  will 
be  terribly  hard  to  endure  them  ;  it  will  be  in- 
deed a  weary  thing  to  live  and  a  bitter  thing 
to  die.  And  this  will  be  your  lot,  —  this  must 
be  your  lot,  —  if  you  do  not  turn  unto  God. 
Sanctified  afflictions  are  the  portion  of  those 
only  who  love  God ;  of  "  them  who  are  the 
called  according  to  his  purpose." 

Now,  then,  there  is  a  distinct  and  thriUing 


THE    RESULTS    OF    AFFLICTIONS.  273  , 

argument  in  every  contingency  of  life,  in  every 
earthly  peril  which  besets  you.  There  is  a 
voice  speaking  to  you  from  every  point  of  hope 
and  promise  which  is  before  you,  pleading 
with  you  to  enter  into  covenant  with  God,  so 
that  —  upon  whatsoever  spot  of  life  you  may 
happen  to  stand,  amid  whatever  desolations 
and  griefs  you  may  happen  to  be  cast  —  the 
Spirit  of  God  shall  be  with  you  there  for  your 
comfort  and  sanctification ;  and  the  angels  of 
God,  with  their  afTectionate  ministrations  ;  — 
so  that,  however  wide  and  drear  the  wilder- 
ness where  you  may  happen  to  pitch  your 
tent,  the  grace  of  God  shall  make  it  bud  and 
blossom  as  the  rose  ;  —  so  that,  however  fear- 
ful the  fire  into  which  perchance  you  may  be 
thrown,  it  shall  purge  you  to  the  beauty  and 
glory  of  an  angel  of  light. 

I  beseech  you,  then,  by  the  mercies  of  the 
Lord  ;  by  the  mercies  which  he  is  able  and 
willing  to  dispense  to  you  in  the  days  of  your 
coming  want ;  by  all  the  necessity  and  the 
piteous  helplessness  of  a  soul  when  it  is 
stricken  by  the  hand  of  God  ;  that  you  present 
yourself  unto  him  a  living  sacrifice,  soul  and 
body.  Give  him  your  heart.  Give  him  your 
love.  Give  him  your  confidence.  Give  him 
your  fellowship.     Else  he  will  never  give  you 


M74l        the  results  of  afflictions. 

his  confidence,  nor  his  fellowship,  nor  his 
love.  Else  he  will  leave  you  —  he  must  —  to 
buffet  with  the  surges  of  your  adversities  alone» 
—  comfortless.  Else  he  will  never  turn  them 
to  the  profit  of  your  soul.  Else  he  will  make 
them  interpreters  of  himself  before  your  eyes 
hereafter,  not  to  your  joy  and  glory,  but  to 
your  shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  Else 
you  will  go  down  to  your  grave  and  to  your 
retribution,'accountable  for  all  the  offered  com- 
forts of  God,  and  for  all  the  lessons  of  your 
days  of  affliction. 


THE    END. 


DATE  DUE 

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